


The Gemini Curse

by filmfanatic82



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Future Fic, Slow Burn, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2020-03-06 19:57:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 41,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18858025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filmfanatic82/pseuds/filmfanatic82
Summary: Penelope Park has one chance and one chance only to change the course of history and save the one person that she loves more than life itself... Josie Saltzman.





	1. Prologue

_“We never got it right_

_Playing and replaying old conversations_

_Overthinking every word and I hate it_

_'Cause it's not me ('cause it's not me)_

_And what's the point in hiding?_

_Everybody knows we got unfinished business_

_And I'll regret it if I didn't say_

_This isn't what it could be (isn't what it could be)”_

_\-- Back to You_

**__________**

_“Surprise.”_

_The simple word cuts through the silence, grabbing hold of Penelope’s full attention as she pushes open her dorm room door. It’s been a long day. Too long and chock-full of nothing but disappoint._

_Penelope’s parents had sworn up and down that this birthday-- her 16th birthday-- would be different than the rest. That they wouldn’t let down like the previous ones. Nor like Christmas. Or the countless other holidays and pinnacle moments in her young life where her parents had been conveniently absent for._

_No. This time it would be different. The notorious Victor and Raquel Park were set to arrive at Salvatore School promptly at nine o’clock to pick up their only daughter and whisk her away for a day-long celebration. One that would include lunch at her favorite French bistro restaurant followed by a shopping excursion or maybe a trip to the nearest spa for a lengthy deep tissue massage._

_And Penelope believed it. She truly did. So much so that she scoffed at the idea of making any other plans whatsoever for the day. No matter how much Josie begged her to reconsider._

_But nine o’clock came and went._

_And then, ten._

_And then, eleven._

_It wasn’t until almost one in the afternoon that Penelope’s parents had the decency to reach out and inform the school that due to unforeseen work obligations that they would not be coming to pick up their daughter after all and to send their regards. They didn’t even take the time to directly talk to her. No. Even that was too much of a hassle for them._

_All Penelope got was a secondhand happy birthday from the school secretary and told that her parents would be in touch soon. That’s all she was worth… At least to the people that were supposed to unconditionally love her._

_After that, Penelope couldn’t bring herself to return to the dorms. Nor anywhere else for that matter. She needed to be alone. Away from the prying eyes and endless questions._

_So Penelope turned off her cell phone and wandered off into the woods, roaming aimlessly with nothing but sixteen years worth of unfulfilled promises to play on a never-ending loop in the depths of her mind. She walked around hidden by the comfort of the dense trees until well after the sun had set and the stars had made their appearance in the night sky. Penelope would’ve kept going forever if it would not been for the simple fact that the temperature had dropped so much so that she could see her breath with each step that she took._

_It was late enough that Penelope was more than sure she would be able to slip back to the dorms and into her room completely unnoticed. And then curl up under her small mountain of covers, allowing her birthday to finally be done and over with._

_“Pen?” Josie follows up as it finally starts to register with Penelope that scene before her isn’t a dream. No. It’s real. The one person in the entire world that she loves more than life itself has snuck into her dorm room and magically transformed it into an indoor fairy garden, complete with twinkling lights and an array of roses in every color imaginable. And in the center sits Josie on a picnic blanket surrounded by all of Penelope’s favorite treats._

_“You did this?” Penelope manages to say as her mind still tries to process that someone would go to such great lengths for her._

_“Of course. It’s your birthday,” Josie replies with a warm smile. She gets up off the blanket and walks over to Penelope, never once taking her eyes off of the raven-haired girl. “Well, not all of it. MG and Hope helped out with the lights and the flowers. But the rest was all me… Do you like it?”_

_But Penelope doesn’t reply. She can’t. Her words are lost amongst the numerous thoughts swimming around in her head. Instead, Penelope slowly enters her room as her eyes take in every last detail, committing it to her memory. She has no clue what will transpire next, but it doesn’t matter. Penelope already knows that this will be one of her most cherished memories for the rest of her life. The one that will get her through those moments when world too harsh and there seems to be no love left to be found._

_“I know you said you didn’t want to do anything for your birthday, but I couldn’t let it pass by without--”_

_Penelope doesn’t let Josie finish her sentence. She surges forward and captures the brunette’s cherry red lips into a passionate kiss, pouring every last one of her feelings into it as she does. Josie takes a second to get over the shock and then naturally takes the lead, deepening the kiss as she threads her hands through Penelope’s wavy locks._

_The two stumble their way towards the blanket, as their hands work feverishly to unbutton buttons and untie ties. Josie wraps her arms around Penelope and with an unforeseen inner grace, slowly lowers them down onto the ground, never once breaking their kiss. And Penelope willingly gives in to the girl that has managed to show her what it’s like to be loved, allowing her to be in control. To guide her through what will come next._

_Although Penelope is known for her vast lexicon of sexual innuendos and more than suggestive smirks, the act itself is uncharted territory for her. The truth is she’s never been with anyone. Not that the opportunity hasn’t presented itself before. No. Penelope has more than once before found herself in the throws of a heavy petting make out session that could’ve easily turned into something more, but up until this very moment, she has always stopped. No one-- at least no one before Josie-- has made her feel safe enough to bare that piece of herself that she keeps tucked from the outside world. Hidden behind thick walls of snarky comebacks and a nonchalant facade._

_“Pen?” Josie asks as she pulls out of a kiss and pauses for a moment, eyes searching over Penelope’s face beneath her. “Are you okay? We can stop if you want to. I know--”_

_“No,” Penelope cuts Josie off with a little too much urgency to her voice. Her body is moments away from total combustion, and she craves nothing but the touch of Josie strong yet gentle hands upon her. “I want this… I… I love you.”_

_The words cause an instantaneous smile to slide across Josie’s lips. “I love you too, Penelope Park.”_

_And with that, Penelope feels her heart burst open as a strange sensation floods every inch of her body. It’s love. Plain, simple, and yet addicting. And at that very moment, Penelope decides that it’s a feeling she never wants to go without again for the rest of her life._

**__________**

“Park! Wake up. We’ve gotta go in five. Caroline’s waiting for us.”

Penelope grumbles an incoherent response from the confines of her pillow and then rolls over, pulling the blanket up over her head in the process. She attempts to drift back to sleep, but it’s no use. The dream-- her favorite dream-- is long gone, safely tucked back away in the dark recesses of her memories. 

God, Penelope loves that dream. 

“Get up, Park,” Hope’s voice cuts through the silence once again, this time accompanied by a vigorous banging against her bedroom door. 

“Fuck off,” Penelope fires back. She slowly sits up, running her hands through her short, messy bedhead, and then lets out a much-needed sigh. “It’s isn’t even eight yet.”

The bedroom door opens to reveal Hope Mikaelson, wide awake, and already dressed in her now trademark ripped jeans and worn out black leather motorcycle jacket. She shoots a playful smirk at Penelope accompanied by a slight shake of her head. “It’s 8:30.” 

“Bullshit,” Penelope responds.

“Check your phone if you don’t believe me.” Hope makes her way into the room and takes a seat on the edge of Penelope’s bed. “I let you sleep an extra 30.” 

“Thanks,” Penelope mumbles under her breath. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“I thought we weren’t meeting Caroline until this afternoon?” 

“We were,” Hope responds as she subconsciously starts to twist her ornate silver thumb ring back and forth.

After six years of spending almost every moment together, Penelope knows every single one of Hope’s non-verbal tells. She’s long since memorized them like everything else about the auburn-haired girl that by all accounts is like a sister to her. An older, and sometimes annoying, sister who Penelope has come to love and admire more than words could ever express. 

And how could she not? 

Not after everything they have been through together.

No. Hope Mikaelson is the one person in the entire world who Penelope can count on. Regardless of the situation or circumstances at hand. And the same goes in reverse. They are each other’s ride or die. Ever since that fateful day that she turned up on Penelope’s doorstep in Belgium and swore to her that they were going to find a way to stop the merge, even if they had to sacrifice everything to do so.

“But…”

“But Caroline called an hour ago and said she needed to see us right away,” Hope says with a lengthy exhale.  

“An hour ago? And you didn’t wake me?”

“You needed the sleep.” 

“I’m okay.”

“Pen--”

“Seriously,” Penelope cuts Hope off. She doesn’t want to have this conversation. Not again. And not today. “I’m okay.”

Hope lets out a sigh. “Fine.” 

“Did she say anything else? Anything about the talisman?” Penelope asks, quickly changing the subject.

“No. But I got the sense that it’s why she needs to see us. I mean, what else could it be about?”

“Fuck,” Penelope says in nothing more than a whisper as her teeth subconsciously sink into her bottom lip.

“Hey. It could be good news. Maybe she found it.”

“Or maybe…”

“Don’t,” Hope says with a sudden sternness to her voice. “You promised me, you wouldn’t do this.” 

“I know. I just…” Penelope trails off as her fingers make their way towards a faint white scar that stretches across the entirety of her neck. There’s only one way someone gets a scar like that. 

Hope notices the motion and instantly reaches out, placing her hand on top of Penelope’s. “Pen, it’s going to be different this time.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Neither do you,” Hope says with a warm smile. “But there’s only one way to find out.” 

Hope gives Penelope’s hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance and then gets up off of the bed. She grabs hold of a nearby black t-shirt and tosses it at Penelope. “Now, get dressed.”

“Bossy much?”

“You know you like it,” Hope responds without missing a beat. “Oh and Park…”

“Yeah?”

“Happy birthday.” 

With that, Hope leaves the room, and Penelope flops back down onto the bed. She lets out another deep sigh as her eyes stare up at the cracked ceiling, trying to fend off the thoughts of the impending news that is to come. Penelope wants so desperately to believe that Hope’s right. That Caroline has successfully tracked down the last piece of the puzzle, and they can finally attempt the spell. But the past six years have been filled with nothing but dead ends, failed attempts, and the inevitable disappointment and heartache. 

And, to top it all off, they have run out of options. This spell is it. The hail mary that if successful will give Penelope one chance and one chance only to right the wrongs of the past and maybe-- just maybe-- stop the person she loves from becoming…

“No,” Penelope says to herself, shutting down her thoughts. She won’t let herself go there. Not again. 

Instead, Penelope rolls over and searches underneath her pillows. It takes a moment or two, but then a hint of a smile slides across her face as she pulls out a tattered yellow cardigan. It’s threadbare at best and long since lost the Salvatore School crest, but she loves it nonetheless. It’s all Penelope has left. A yellow cardigan and bittersweet memories. 

Penelope curls up in the bed, clutching the yellow cardigan for dear life as she tries to hold on to the faint Hope that whatever comes next will bring her one step closer to saving Josie Saltzman. 


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spell worked. Which means… 
> 
> Penelope’s hand trembles as she reaches for the bedroom doorknob and slowly pulls it opens to reveal the girl that has continually haunted her dreams for the last six years. 
> 
> Josie Saltzman.  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------  
> Penelope embarks on the hardest (and yet most important) mission she's ever faced before.

_“I’m walking uphill, both ways it hurts_

_I bury my heart here in this dirt_

_I hope it’s a seed, I hope it works_

_I need to grow, here I could be_

_Closer to light, closer to me_

_Don’t have to do this perfectly, yeah_

_Rain, it pours, rain, it pours_

_It’s pouring on me_

_The rain it falls, rain it falls_

_Sowing the seeds of love and hope, love and hope_

_We don’t have to stay, stuck in the way”_

_\-- Courage_

**__________**

“Coffee?” Caroline asks as she opens her front door and lets Hope and Penelope in.

“You read my mind.” Hope shucks off her leather jacket, revealing a form-fitting heather gray v-neck underneath. She goes to throw her jacket on a nearby armchair, but before she can finish the motion, Caroline stops her.

“Hope Marie Mikaelson. Don’t you even dare.”

“Sorry,” Hope grumbles under her breath.

Penelope can’t help but smirk as she watches Hope move across the room and instead neatly hang up her jacket on the nearby coat rack. This exchange has become like clockwork between the three of them over the last few years. Sure, the place hasn’t always been the same. Bouncing from city to city and apartment to apartment as they hunt down any scrap of a lead. But this… The overwhelming sense of familiarity between them, as if Caroline’s place is naturally their home, is always the same.

Like it was always meant to be. Or at least Penelope has come to tell herself that during those moments when she’s hit with yet another tidal wave of fear and doubt. That regardless of just how messed up their situation has become, that they were always pre-destined to be family.

The best pseudo-daughter-in-laws a mother could wish for.

That’s how Caroline phrased it once. After they had practically drowned themselves late one night in their drinks of choice; whiskey, gin and red wine. It had been on the heels of receiving the news about Lizzie. God, had that been a brutal night. Far worse than any physical battle that Penelope had ever endured.

They had found out by accident, which in all accounts, made the news that much worse. A random newscast accompanied by a picture of the blonde haired girl had flashes onto the tv in the background of the bar they were at. That’s how it broke. No phone calls. No comforting words. Just the cold hard facts that Lizzie Saltzman was dead.

The reports had said it had been a hit and run, but they knew better. Lizzie’s death had been anything but random. No. Her death had been caused by something-- or someone-- that they had come to fear more than any other supernatural entity in existence.  

It had come at the hands of her very own twin sister.

And so Hope and Penelope did the only thing they could think of doing after receiving such earth-shattering news such as that. They headed straight for Caroline’s apartment, and the three of them proceeded to take solace in each other as they drank their way into the numbness.

For Hope, it meant that she would never have the opportunity to make amends and finally confess her love for the girl that she secretly adored from afar for so many years.

And for Caroline, it was the loss of a daughter. One more part of her ever-crumbling world gone for all eternity.

But for Penelope, the news had had a different, more ominous, meaning to it. It meant that they were that much closer to ultimately failing. That the loss of Lizzie signified that Josie might just be too far gone to ever be saved. That their years spent hunting down lead after lead while fighting for their very survival were all in vain.

“Did you girls eat already?” Caroline calls out from the kitchen.

“No,” Hope responses. She plops herself down on the oversized couch and motions for Penelope to join her. “C’mon Pen. I’m not gonna bite.”

“You sure about that, Furball?” Penelope fires back with a smirk, causing Hope to playfully chuck a nearby throw pillow at her face. It hits Penelope dead on. “Hey!”

“I’ve told you never to call me that.”

“What? It’s way better than the alternatives. And besides, it’s endearing... in an ‘I dig Furries’ sort of way.”

Hope chucks another throw pillow at Penelope, this time tapping into her full super strength, but Penelope is too quick. She ducks down just before the pillow can make contact with her head, and instead, it crashes into the bookcase behind her.

“Everything okay in there?” Caroline asks in response to the sudden commotion.

“Yeah,” Hope and Penelope answer back in unison, trying their best not to sound too guilty.

“Penelope is picking on me again,” Hope yells into Caroline with a slightly joking tone to her voice.

“Am not!”

“Are too. You called me Furball,” Hope responds mocking a look of hurt on her face. “And you know just how just sensitive I am to some of more unsavory Tribrid side effects.”

“God… You’re such an ass.” Penelope shoots Hope a hard eye roll and then throws one of the nearby throw pillows back at her, punctuating her point.

Hope catches it before it can hit her. She matches Penelope’s smirk with one of her very own. “Learned from the best.”

Penelope plops herself down next to Hope and without another word exchanged, rests her head down on Hope’s shoulder. And Hope, in return begins to stroke Penelope’s messy raven locks, twirling loose strands around the ends of her fingers as she does. It’s a simple gesture, but it’s come to speak volumes between the two of them. One that they use to express a multitude of emotions when words feel too trivial. It’s their thing… And Penelope is beyond thankful for it.

“Okay. So I wasn’t sure what you would be in the mood for…” Caroline announces as she re-emerges from the kitchen carrying a tray brimming full of gourmet pastries and treats. On top of the small confectionery, mountain sits a single lit candle.

Penelope’s face instantly turns a deep shade of red. “Caroline, you really didn’t have to--”

“Stop. It’s your birthday, Penelope... And you know how I feel about birthdays.” Caroline sets the tray down on the coffee table and then plants a tender kiss on Penelope’s forehead.

“Thank you,” Penelope responds with a hint of a smile.

“Of course, Sweetheart.”

“Go on. Make a wish, Park,” Hope chimes in. She lovingly ruffles Penelope’s hair, making a point to mess it up as she does. Penelope swats Hope’s hand away and re-tucks her short loose strands back behind her ears. She pauses for a moment, takes a deep breath, and then blows out the candle.

“Good,” Caroline replies with a widened smile. “Now dig in so we can get to business… Hope, honey, there’s a bear claw in there at the bottom. Double checked that they included it in the mix this time.”

“Yes!” Hope leans forward and rummages through the pile of pastries. “Caroline for the win again. How do you always manage to pull through for us?”

Caroline smiles at Hope’s comment, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I wish that were always true in all cases…”

“But…?” Penelope catches on the slight hint of melancholy buried within Caroline’s voice.

“It’s about the talisman, isn’t it? Don’t tell me those fuckers over in Breakton gave us the wrong information. Do you know how many rounds they made me go with their pet troll just to get them to say anything to us?”

“No. Their tip was spot on. The talisman was right where they said it was,” Caroline sighs. She walks over to a nearby bookcase and moves a few generic looking textbooks to reveal an ornate knife shaped artifact.

“Cultellus Intempestus,” Penelope whispers as Caroline returns to the couch, a talisman in hand.

“Exactly. And according to a few nightshade coven members I talked to last night, it’s indeed the last of its kind.” Caroline places the talisman into the coffee table and then sits herself down in a nearby armchair.

“So what’s the catch? Cause we’ve been working on tracking down this bad boy for the last four months now and yet you don’t look relieved or even happy,” Hope asks.

Caroline doesn’t respond. Instead, she tries her best to produce yet another smile but can’t seem to hide the tears as they start to well up in the corners of her eyes.

“Caroline… What aren’t you telling us?” Penelope asks unable to hide her growing level of concern.

“The translation for the temporal spell was wrong. It turns out that there’s a direct correlation between the number of talismans used and the number of people that can be sent back.”

“So that means…”

“One talisman, one ticket back in time,” Hope finishes Penelope’s words, and Caroline gives a bittersweet nod in confirmation. “And as you just said that’s the last talisman in existence so-- “

“No.” Penelope shakes her head in disbelief as the sickening truth finally clicks into place. She springs to her feet, eyes darting between Caroline and Hope, praying for a sign— any sign— that this isn’t the only option. That there’s something else. Something that they must’ve overlooked. Another, more palatable, way for them to right the wrongs of the past.

But the longer Penelope stares at Hope and Caroline the more she comes to the realization that this is it.

There is no other option.

” Pen…” But Penelope doesn’t stick around to hear what Hope has to say next. She can’t. Instead, Penelope heads straight for the front door and leaves.

**__________**

Penelope isn’t quite sure just how long she’s been sitting out on the roof. She distinctly remembers returning home from Caroline’s, boiling with undirected rage and anger and climbing out through her bedroom window onto the secret alcove on their roof, but after that, time just blends together.

But then again, that’s how it’s been for the last six years. There are moments that burned into the depth of Penelope’s memories, so bright and recallable that even years later, she can still remember what smells were present. And then there are swaths of time that she has no recollection of whatsoever. Moments that were too painful to experience. Too real and filled with raw emotions.

Those are the moments that Penelope has actively chosen to forget. Or at least push so far down into the dark expanse of her mind that they very rarely ever see the light of day.  

“Knew I’d find you here.”

Penelope continues to stare out onto the city as her fingers trace over the faded yellow sweater in her hands. She doesn’t need to turn around. Penelope already knows that the voice belongs to Hope.

Who else would it be?

Besides Caroline, there’s only one person in the world that would care enough to come looking for her.

“Took you long enough,” Penelope replies. She scoots over on the roof making room for Hope to join her.

“Caroline and I had to chat through some things first.”

Penelope nods. “How much did I tick her off?”

“Surprisingly not at all. She was expecting a much bigger blowout.”

“What can I say? I’ve grown,” Penelope says with a shrug of her shoulders.

An awkward silence falls between the two of them for a moment as they sit side by side staring out onto the latest city that they call home, then--

“Pen--”

“Don’t. I know what you’re about to say and I don’t want to hear it. The deal was we both go back, remember? Together or not at all. That’s what we agreed upon.”

“Things change. That’s just how this fucked up life works. You know that, Pen.”

Penelope lets out a long exhale as she attempts to blink back the tears. “How do we even decide which one of us goes?”

But Hope doesn’t respond. She simply looks over at Penelope with a sympathetic smile, and suddenly it’s crystal clear. And Penelope feels the instantaneous lump of overwhelming emotions begin to rise in her throat.

“It’s already decided, isn’t it? That’s what you and Caroline were discussing,” Penelope says unable to hide the quiver in her voice.

“If anyone has the best chance of getting through to Josie, it’s you.”

“But I… I can’t. Not without you… I can’t do this alone… How am I supposed to do this alone?”

Hope wraps her arm around Penelope and pulls her close, providing the ravened hair girl as much comfort and reassurance as she can. “You can, and you will. Just like every other fucked up situation we’ve encountered. If the last six years has taught me anything, it’s not to underestimate the resiliency, determination, and sheer badass-ary that is Penelope Park.”

Penelope lets out a wet laugh of a bark. “Badass-ary? That isn’t even a word.”

“It is now,” Hope replies. Penelope leans in closer to Hope, giving in to the comfort.

“What am I supposed to do without you?”

“You’re acting like I won’t be there.”

“Yeah, but it won’t be you.”

“It’s still me, Pen” Hope laughs as she tucks a stray lock of hair behind Penelope’s ear. “Just younger.”

“Ugh! You know what I mean, Mikaelson.” Penelope huffs in response. “You won’t remember this… Any of this.”

“But you will,” Hope offers up. “Just wear me down until I have no other choice but to be your friend. You did it once, you can do it again.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Cause it is… And if it’s not then I give you full right to bring up Madrid.”

Penelope’s eyebrow instantly raises in curiosity at the mention of the word. “Really?”

“100%... But only if absolutely necessary. Got it?”

“What? You worried it might be too much for your 18-year-old self to handle?” Penelope asks as a hint of a smirk slides across her face.

” No,” Hope pauses for a moment and Penelope swears she can feel Hope gnawing on her bottom lip. Another tell.” Just don’t want younger me jumping to any conclusions about things. That’s all.”

”  I’ll only use it as a last resort.” Penelope places her hand on top of Hope’s and gives it a squeeze.” Promise.”

” Thanks.”

” So what other requests do you have?”

“Requests?” Hope questions.

“Yeah. I mean this is your one opportunity to effectively change your past self… or is it your future self?”

“I guess it depends on how you look at it.” Hope grows quiet again for a moment or two as she contemplates how she wants to question that question. “Can you make sure I tell her? Doesn’t have to be right away but at least before it’s…”

Penelope gives Hope’s hand another squeeze. “Of course. That was already on my list. I meant something not obvious. Like, talk you out of getting that septum piercing.”

“Hey! That wasn’t that bad.”

“It was hideous. Thank god that Bulgarian vampire ripped it out for you.”

“Okay. Fine. Add it to your list. Cause having that thing ripped out did hurt like a bitch,” Hope responds with a light chuckle.

“Already done.” Penelope readjusts herself against Hope’s body so that she can lean her head down on Hope’s shoulder.” How much time do we have left?”

” Little over two hours. Caroline told me we need to be ready to kick things off at sunset.”

Penelope hums in response and then goes back to tracing her fingers over the threadbare yellow sweater. The silence creeps back in again as the two of them sit there just enjoying the last few moments with one another.

**__________**

” You ready, Sweetheart?” Caroline asks as she finishes lighting the last of the candles and steps out of the summoning circle.

Penelope starts to open her mouth to respond, but finds that she’s at a loss for words. There’s simply no right way to answer that question... Especially not now. Not when she just found out that she will be solely on her own in this suicide mission.

” Pen?” Hope chimes in, locking eyes with Penelope.

” Yeah. I’m… I’m ready.” Penelope nods. She runs her hands through her hair and exhales a breath of air.”  Let’s get this show on the road.”

” Okay,” Caroline responds.” Just remember--”

” I know. Once you start chanting, there’s no stopping.”

Caroline mimics Penelope and exhales as well. She attempts to force a smile, but instead, her lips begin to tremble as tears roll down her cheeks.

And Penelope’s heart shatters. There’s so much to be said. So many thoughts and feeling. All battling their way up, out of the depths of Penelope’s soul, and bubbling just beneath the surface.

“I…” Penelope fails to finish her sentence. But it doesn’t matter. Caroline comes to her rescue, pulling her into a warm, motherly embrace. She gently strokes Penelope’s cheek, brushing away the stray tears.

“Go get my daughters back, okay?”

“Okay,” Penelope replies with another nod of her head. She hugs Caroline back for a few moments longer, desperately wanting to linger in the arms of the woman she has come to consider her surrogate mother, but then pulls back and quickly wipes her tears away.

Caroline gives Penelope a smile and then, almost if by cue, starts to busy herself with final preparations on the other side of the room. It’s an intentional move. One done to provide Penelope a private moment with Hope.

A moment to say goodbye.

Penelope grabs hold of Hope’s honey gold eyes, a now permanent side effect from having to tap into her inner wolf one too many times, and instantly all shreds of readiness go out the window. No. She isn’t ready. Not at all. Not when it means that Hope-- or what is this version of Hope-- will no longer be.

“Hey,” Hope says snapping Penelope out of her thoughts.” This isn’t the time for second doubts, Park. You’ve got this.”

“Of course I do,” Penelope straightens herself up a bit and produces a smirk. “Now that I have a clear motive… I’ve got to go back in time and prevent you from getting a way tragic septum piercing.”

“And… There’s my girl,” Hope replies with a laugh.

“Hope, I--”

“Let’s not do this whole goodbye thing, okay? Let’s just leave it at see you later.”

Penelope wipes her eyes once again as the years have now turned from stray drops into steady streams. “I’ll see you, Mikaelson.”

“I’m counting on it.” With those words, Hope extends her arms and Penelope falls into a hug. Penelope wraps her arms tighter than usual around Hope, trying to communicate the years worth of love and gratitude towards the older girl.

Just like with Caroline, Penelope doesn’t want to let go. Because when she does, it only means she’s one step closer to the point of no return.

To never seeing her again.

“It’s time.”

Hope and Penelope break off their hug at Caroline’s announcement, and Hope reached out to ruffle Penelope’s hair for one last time. She then snatches up the yellow sweater from a nearby table and tosses it at Penelope. “Don’t forget your security blanket.”

“Never.” Penelope catches the sweater and smiles back at Hope. She gingerly slides her arms into the sweater, making sure not to further enlarge any of the numerous holes. It isn’t much. Just some threadbare fabric. But it’s enough. As always, that sweater-- Josie’s sweater-- is the right boost of security mixed with confidence. And precisely what Penelope needs to face whatever is to come next head on.

With a final exhale of air, Penelope steps into the summoning circle, closes her eyes, and waits for the journey to begin.

**__________**

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

Penelope stirs awake as the sounds of loud knocking fill her semi-consciousness. She rolls over and instantly is hit dead on with the mother of all headaches. Her brain pounds away against her skull as if being relentlessly attacked by a thousand little jackhammers.

“Go away, Mikaelson!” Penelope mumbles as she buries her head into her pillow.

A moment passes, and suddenly, an odd thought crosses Penelope’s mind. She has no recollection of drinking the night before. No. None at all. Not even getting home.

“What the fuck?” Penelope whispers as she rolls back over and forces herself entirely into the land of consciousness.

“Penelope! Open up! I know you’re in there.”

“Shit.” Penelope’s eye pop open with a shocking realization. That voice… She knows that voice.

Penelope stumbles her way out of bed, semi-tripping over foreign yet oddly familiar stray pieces of furniture as she does. She isn’t in her room. Well, technically it is, but it’s a room that Penelope hasn’t called home since she was 16 years old.

She’s in her dorm room… Her dorm room at Salvatore Academy.

Penelope lets out a harsh laugh in sheer disbelief as she spins around taking it all in. Everything is exactly how it was. Down to the stack of quasi-illegal ancient history books that are stashed away on the far side of her desk.

“It worked.” Penelope stops spinning as another round of banging echoes throughout her room. She stares at the door as a second, more powerful, wave of realization crashes down upon her.

The spell worked. Which means…

Penelope’s hand trembles as she reaches for the bedroom doorknob and slowly pulls it opens to reveal the girl that has continually haunted her dreams for the last six years.

Josie Saltzman.

“JoJo?” Penelope says in a voice barely above a whisper. Her hands clamp down on the door frame as the world around her starts to go askew, and the edge grows blurry.

“Are you all right?” Josie asks. Her anger instantly melts away and is replaced with a look of genuine concern.

“Yes. I just need… I need…”

But Penelope doesn’t have a chance to finish her sentence. She hand slips off of her door frame, and before her body hits the hard wooden floor, everything goes black once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment / feedback away below. Would love to know what you think of it so far.
> 
> Enjoy!


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penelope squeezes her eyes shut, mentally bracing herself for what she’s about to do and then--
> 
> “You have a birthmark on your inner left thigh.”
> 
> Hope freezes in her tracks but doesn’t turn around. 
> 
> “It’s the size of a quarter and resembles a sparrow if you squint while looking at it.” 
> 
> Hope slowly turns around to face Penelope, eyes wide with a mixture of shock and horror. “How do you…” 
> 
> Penelope offers Hope a slightly sympathetic smile in return. It isn’t much, but she doesn’t know exactly what else to do at the moment. “As I said… I know you.”  
> \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> After adjusting to her new reality, Penelope works on the first big challenge... convincing Hope to help her out.

 

_"It’s hard to admit that_

_Everything just takes me back_

_To when you were there_

_To when you were there_

_And a part of me keeps holding on_

_Just in case it hasn’t gone_

_I guess I still care_

_Do you still care?"_

_\-- When We Were Young_

**__________**

“Jojo…” Penelope groans. She stirs awake as the vaguely familiar sights and sounds of the Salvatore Academy infirmary flood her consciousness.” Wait. How did I…”

The world comes crashing into full view, and instantly Penelope words die out. There peacefully sleeping in the chair next to the bed is Josie— Penelope’s Josie— the one who’s existed only within her dreams for the last six years.

“Jojo?” Penelope says, clearing the sleep from her voice. Josie’s eyes flicker open, and for the briefest of moments, a smile starts to form upon her lips, causing Penelope’s heart to skip a beat. But then the moment passes, and the smile transforms into a worrisome scowl. 

“Thank god,” Josie responds with a slight sigh of relief. “How are you feeling?”

“Besides the pounding headache? Fantastic.” Penelope props herself up on the bed and runs her hands through her messy, raven hair. She catches Josie in the chocolate brown eyes, trying her best not to show her growing excitement. 

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I just--”

“Bullshit.” Josie reaches into the pocket of her sweatshirt and produces a letter. “Unless you were lying in this? Were you lying?”

“Shit…” Penelope’s eyes widen. “What day is it?” 

“What?” Josie asks, suddenly thrown off by the question.

“Date. What’s the date?” And without any warning, a fresh dose of panic courses through Penelope’s veins. The spell should’ve sent her back to right after the events surrounding Josie’s 16th birthday, giving her more than enough time to regain Josie’s trust enough to convince her to spend some time away from the Salvatore school. 

But Josie is holding the letter.

The infamous letter. The one that Penelope has all but memorized, word for word. And by the look on Josie’s face, it’s evident that she has finally gotten around to reading it which means… 

“March 24th,” Josie replies with an underlying tone of confusion to her voice. “Pen…”

“The day after the ball… Fuck… There’s only four days… Not enough time…,” Penelope rambles to herself. Her fingers automatically move towards her neck searching for the ever-present faint white scar, but--

It isn’t there. 

At least not anymore. And this sudden revelation blindsides Penelope. This is her new reality — one where the physical souvenirs of the past six years no longer exist. 

Penelope fingers drop down from her neck and then exhales with a newfound determination. “I need to find Hope.”  

“Hope? As in Hope Mikaelson?” 

“Yes,” Penelope responds as if it's nothing out of the ordinary. “What other Hope would I be referring to?” 

“Pen… You’re not making any sense.” Josie continues to stare at Penelope, trying her best to follow along. 

“There’s no time…,” Penelope says again. She rips the covers off and starts to slide out of the cot, but stops at the sudden sensation of Josie’s hand upon her arm. 

That touch. Gentle but firm with an underlying warm tingle that only a siphoner can produce. God, Penelope has missed that touch. 

“Pen, please.” There’s a hint of desperation to Josie’s voice that all but stops Penelope dead in her tracks. Penelope swallows down the dry lump of emotions building in the back of her throat and then takes a moment to collect herself. “Talk to me.”

“I can’t… Not now. But we will. Soon. I promise.”

Josie motions to the letter in her hand. “But you’re leaving?” 

Penelope lets a curse slip out from underneath her breath. She shakes her head. “No, I’m not.”

“But--”

“I know what it says,” Penelope cuts Josie off with a sigh. “It’s wrong.”

“So… You’re not leaving?” Josie asks.

“No,” Penelope responds triggering a look of pure and utter confusion upon Josie’s face. A brief but heavy silence falls between the two of them as Penelope’s eyes can’t help but wander back towards the letter.

All those words. Each one like an individual tile, meaningless by itself, but when placed together form a beautiful mosaic of Penelope’s innermost thoughts and feelings for the one person she loves more than life itself. 

For her Jojo. 

“What about the rest? Did you mean…” Josie trails off almost too scared of what the answer might be even to finish her sentence. Instead, she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and avoids eye contact with Penelope. Her signature tells. Ones that Penelope knows the meaning of all too well. 

Penelope gently places her hand down on top of Josie’s and squeezes it. It’s a small gesture, but it’s something. “Every word.”

Josie slowly raises her head to meet Penelope’s eyes once again as the beginnings of a smile start to form in the corners of her mouth. “Really?”

“Yes. Really,” Penelope smiles back. “Except for the part about me leaving. Forget I ever wrote that. My ass is going nowhere… At least not anytime soon.”

“Okay,” Josie nods, still trying to work through her general layer of confusion. 

“Okay, good.” Penelope nods and then, without another moment’s hesitation, peels herself off of the cot and rises to her feet.

“Wait! Where are you going?” 

“I told you already. I need to track down Hope.” Penelope says as she straightens out her black leggings and oversized Salvatore school sweatshirt in an attempt to look somewhat halfway decent.  

“It’s barely 7 am, and you just spent the last five hours out cold after passing out in your dorm room. Don’t you think you should at least wait until the nurse checks you out?” 

“7 am… Great. Hope will be at the docks training,” Penelope continues, distracted once again by her own train of thoughts. She moves towards the doorway at a quickened pace. “I’m fine… Promise.”  

“Pen?” Josie calls out after Penelope, but it’s no use. Penelope is already halfway out the door. 

“100% fine,” Penelope replies over her shoulder and then disappearing out of sight.

**__________**

Penelope high tails it across the grounds, paying little to no attention at all to the normal Wednesday morning activities transpiring around her. She even blows right past MG when he passes her in the quad and attempts to see if she wants to grab breakfast, only offering up a “not now” in a huff of breath in response. There just isn’t time for formalities. Not when she now only has a handful of days before the invasion. 

Not even fifteen minutes later, Penelope emerges from the dense tree-lined path and spots Hope, exactly where she predicted, in the near distance on the docks in the mists of her daily training routine. 

“Mikaelson,” Penelope shouts making her presence known to the auburn-haired girl. But Hope doesn’t react. She continues right on practicing, wielding her wooden bow with an expert like precision against an imaginary adversary as if she is still all alone. 

Penelope lets out a sigh and then makes a beeline for the dock, never once taking her eyes off of Hope. She gets within a few feet and then stops in her tracks and impatiently waits, arms folded across her chest. 

“Seriously? You’re just going to ignore my presence?” Penelope asks, finally breaking the silence.

Still no reaction. Hope doubles down on her training, never once even giving a single glance in Penelope’s direction. 

“You’re ticked off about me telling Landon about his mom, aren’t you?” 

“Leave, Penelope,” Hope responds mid-swing. The bow lands only a mere inches away from Penelope’s right ear, causing her to flinch slightly. There’s no mistaking it. It’s a warning shot. 

“Oh… Look, I do exist. Must be a miracle,” Penelope fires back, words dripping with sarcasm. Hope swings her bow again, but Penelope predicts the shot and sidesteps out of the way before it can make contact with her shoulder. Hope stumbles and Penelope pounces on the opportunity. She grabs hold of the free end of a wooden bow, causing Hope to tighten her grip. 

“Fuck off,” Hope growls. She yanks at the bow and Penelope yanks back matching Hope’s superhuman strength.

“No can do, Furball.”

“What did you call me?” Thrown off guard, Hope loosens her grip on the wooden bow, giving Penelope a momentary advantage and she doesn’t think twice about seizing it. Penelope shifts her shoulders as she pulls the bow towards her, in a move that all but screams that she more than knows what she’s doing. Thank god for muscle memory and the years upon years of being Hope’s unwilling training partner. 

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. It’s a term of endearment,” Penelope says with a twirl of the wooden bow. “Now stop ignoring me cause we need to talk.”

But Hope doesn’t respond. Her eyes are glued to the bow in Penelope’s hands as a look of pure bewilderment sweeps across her face. “How did you do that?”

“Simple… You taught me.” Penelope stops spinning the bow and offers it back to Hope, who cautiously takes it, more lost than ever before. 

“I did?” Hope asks.

Penelope nods and then runs her hands through her hair. “Among other things… Hope, listen, I know you aren’t going to believe this, but I’m from the future… Or a version of the future. It depends on how you look at it.” 

“Have you been taking hits off of MG’s vape pen again? Cause that stuff will seriously mess you up. Landon ended up getting into a fistfight with the stone gargoyle after a single hit off of that thing.” 

“No. I’m not high… But god do I wish I were right about now,” Penelope responds with an underlying sense of annoyance to her voice. “Hope I’m serious. I’m from the future. We did a spell to send me back here to try and prevent a major incident from happening.”

“We?” Hope questions as the signs of confusion only grow more profound upon her face.

“Yes, we as in you and I… And Caroline.”

“Forbes?”

“Am I speaking in Mandarin? Yes, Forbes. Caroline Forbes.” 

Hope shakes her head in sheer disbelief. “Okay. You, me, and Caroline? This has to be a joke, right? I don’t know what grand scheme you’re cooking up, but I want nothing to do with it… Or you.”

“Ask me a question. Anything…,” Penelope says, trying to hide her rising level of desperation. “Anything at all. I’ll answer it.”

“No… I don’t have time for this.” With those words, Hope drops the bow and starts to walk back towards the path. 

“Shit,” Penelope curses under her breath. “Don’t make me do this, Mikaelson.”

“Good-bye, Penelope.”

Penelope squeezes her eyes shut, mentally bracing herself for what she’s about to do and then--

“You have a birthmark on your inner left thigh.”

Hope freezes in her tracks but doesn’t turn around. 

“It’s the size of a quarter and resembles a sparrow if you squint while looking at it.” 

Hope slowly turns around to face Penelope, eyes wide with a mixture of shock and horror. “How do you…” 

Penelope offers Hope a slightly sympathetic smile in return. It isn’t much, but she doesn’t know exactly what else to do at the moment. “As I said… I know you.”

“Know?”

“Know.” Penelope raises her eyebrows further emphasizing the word. 

An awkward silence falls between the two of them for a moment as neither one quite knows what to say or do next. And it takes everything in Penelope’s power to remain quiet. There’s a part of her that so desperately wants to break the tension and crack a sarcastic remark or two like she has done countless times before. But this isn’t her Hope. At least not yet. 

So Penelope remains silent. Instead, she gnaws on her bottom lip all the while trying to look anywhere else except for at Hope. 

“So…,” Hope huffs out with a heavy sigh. “We need to talk.”

“Yes, we do… And preferably with some alcohol.”

Hope nods. “Yeah. I have a hunch that I’m going to need a drink for this.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Penelope responds with a smirk and then follows Hope towards the path leading back to the school.

**__________**

“Wait. So explain it to me again… Why were we in Madrid?” Hope asks. She takes an extra long swig off of the half-empty Jameson’s bottle and passes it to Penelope who does the same. 

They have been sitting side by side on Hope’s bed for the good part of the last hour now, passing the bottle back and forth while Penelope tried her best to explain away the intricate details of the last six years. It wasn’t how she had initially planned on revealing the truth to Hope, but then again, she was supposed to have had months not days. Days meant that there was no other option but to rip the band-aid off in one sweeping motion.

“Tracking down the Gemelo coven. We had gotten a tip from a rouge vamp in Bulgaria that a few of them were hiding out in the outskirts of Madrid. So we headed there. Took us three weeks and a whole lot of dead ends, but we finally found them.” Penelope pauses to take another hit off of the bottle.

“And?” Hope says with a slight underlying impatient tone to her voice. 

Penelope holds up her hand to Hope, making her wait as she swallows down the gulp of whiskey and then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “And let’s just say it wasn’t a pretty showdown. We thought we got away unscathed, but then a few hours later, we both started showing classic symptoms of a libidine curse.”

“Do I even want to know what that is?” 

Penelope lets out a laugh and gives a bit of a shrug. “It actually wasn’t that bad as far as curses go. It’s not like it made us break out in a hideous rash or deathly ill. It just… It just made us insanely horny.” 

Hope eyes widen as she slowly connects the dots. “So we…” 

Penelope nods. “Yup. We did… Multiple times… We pretty much didn’t stop going at it until the effects of the curse wore off.” 

“Oh god…” Hope says burying her face into her hands as a deep reddish hue spreads across her cheeks. 

“Hey. It isn’t that bad. For what it’s worth, you had me seeing stars when you went down on--”

“Okay. I get it… Thanks,’ Hope cuts Penelope off. She reaches for the bottle back and swallows down a gigantic gulp. 

“You asked,” Penelope replies. 

Hope pauses for a moment, letting the whiskey burn its way down her throat and then looks over at Penelope. “So does that mean we’re a couple?”

“What?” Penelope blurts out in utter shock. 

“Us. We’re together, right?”

“No.” Penelope shakes her head. “More like pseudo siblings with codependency issues that tend to borderline on the unhealthy side of the spectrum… We actually don’t even ever really talk about Madrid. Unless super drunk or I’m trying to get under your skin.”

A silence falls between the two of them as Hope begins to play with the bottle in her hands, spinning the remaining amber liquid into a mini vortex. Penelope sits by Hope’s side, watching the all too familiar action and suddenly is hit with a rouge pang of longing for a time and place that doesn’t exist anymore. She’s seen Hope perform this exact move countless times before, each time transpiring when the auburn-haired girl was in the middle of sorting through her conflicting thoughts. 

“I meant what I said back there on the dock… You can ask me anything. I swear. Anything at all… Whatever you want to know,” Penelope offers up trying to provide whatever comfort she can. 

Hope stops swirling the bottle. “Would you believe me if I said I’m too scared to ask?” 

“Funny enough, yes, I would.” Penelope grabs the bottle out of Hope’s hand and then recaps it and places it down on Hope’s bedtime table. “I’ve got an idea. How about I start with the basics? Just the need to know stuff and nothing more. Okay?”

“Works for me,” Hope nods with a slight hint of relief within her eyes. 

“Done. So where to start…”

“How about with why we-- or future me and you-- sent you back to this specific time period?” 

“Well technically it was supposed to be four months prior, but this is the trigger point,” Penelope replies.

“Trigger point?”

“Ever heard of the Butterfly Effect? It’s similar to that. There’s a major incident that happens here at the school four days from now that is, in essence, the catalyst for everything single event that happens from here on out.”

“What’s the incident?”

Penelope sinks her teeth into her bottom lip as a look of uncertainty sweeps across her face. “I can’t tell you that.”

“What happened to ask me anything?” Hope questions with a quirk of her brow.

“Anything but that. There are just some things that you’re better off knowing as little as humanly possible about... And that’s one of them.” 

“So what can I know about it? Other than that it’s going to happen in four days.”

Penelope sighs and runs her hands through her hair. “It involves Josie.”

“And?”

“And… I can’t say much more than that. I just need to ensure that Josie is nowhere near this campus when it goes down,” Penelope exhales. 

“How exactly are you going to--” 

But Hope’s words are cut off by the sudden and distinct sound of knocking on her dorm room door. 

“Shit.” Hope scrambles to stash the almost-empty bottle of whiskey behind her headboard, while Penelope gets up off the bed and heads towards the door. 

“You good?” Penelope asks with a quick glance over her shoulder at Hope.

“Yeah. All good,” Hope responds, straightening out her clothes in a feeble attempt to look less guilty.

Penelope turns back towards the door, pauses for a moment as well to collect herself, and then opens it to find Josie standing there. A shared look of shock quickly sweeps across both of their faces. 

“Uh… Hi?” Josie says.

“Hi,” Penelope manages to respond, unable to shake the sudden sense of deja vu. 

It’s Josie.

Again. 

Standing right in front of her… In the flesh and blood.

Penelope swallows down the lump of overwhelming emotions bubbling in the back of her throat as her mind scrambles for what to do or say next. 

“I was concerned after you up and left the infirmary… And you weren’t in your room, so I thought I would come here to see if Hope knew where you were since you mentioned that you needed to find her, but… But you’re here…” Josie’s voice goes higher on her last words almost as if it’s a question and Penelope slightly squirms under the gaze of those chocolate brown eyes. 

“Yeah, I…” Penelope looks back at Hope as her mind continues to race. Even after months and months of preparation, she can’t seem to function, let alone come up with a believable lie -- or any lie-- whatsoever. And the whiskey isn’t helping either. 

Hope seems to register Penelope’s struggle and without being prompted, gets up off of the bed and joins them in the doorway. “We agreed to meet up to discuss our history of hexes project. Your dad thought it would be funny to pair the two of us together. Mentioned something about ‘learning to work with difficult people’ would do me good.”

“This isn’t ideal for me either, Furball,” Penelope fires back suddenly finding her trademark bite again. 

“Furball?” Josie’s eyes ping-pong between Penelope and Hope, still not entirely buying into it.

“It’s Penelope’s warped version of a term of endearment,” Hope responds adding a slightly disapproving head shake for added effect. 

“Okay… Well, I’ll let you get back to your project.” Josie turns her attention back towards Penelope and then produces a small but powerful half-smile. “Glad you’re okay.”

And Penelope instantaneously melts into a puddle of long-forgotten feelings. All she can do is nod and match Josie’s smile. 

“See you in class,” Josie says and then disappears back down the hallway, leaving Penelope standing there frozen in time. She tries to move… To will herself not to be so affected by the briefest of interactions with the siphoner. But it’s no use. Penelope is simply not strong enough.

After what seems like forever, the bedroom door slowly closes shuts, snapping Penelope out of her self-induced trance. She looks up and notices that it’s Hope’s hand against the door. 

“How many days again did you say you had?” Hope asks.

“Four,” Penelope replies with another weighted exhale. 

“All right.” Hope gives Penelope definitive nod. “I’m in.”

“What?” Penelope blinks, not entirely sure she’s correctly heard the auburn-haired girl. 

“I’m in. With whatever you need… Count me in.” 

“You’re serious?”

“100%,” Hope responds with a reaffirming nod of her head. “Cause if that exchange was an indication of anything, you’re gonna need all the help you can get.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took FOREVER to get out... Got held up a bit with some other projects but hopefully am now back on track and should be updating on a more consistent basis.
> 
> As always, comment away below. Would love to know what you think.
> 
> Enjoy!


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yes,” Josie matches Penelope’s smile. “I can’t put my finger on it, but… I don’t know… You just seem different somehow.”
> 
> “Different in a good way?” 
> 
> Josie bites down on her lip as she gives a small nod. “Yeah. I think so.”  
> \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> Penelope tries her best to blend in but finds it isn't as easy as she thought it would be.

**Chapter 3**

_ “I would have walked through fire to kiss your lips _

_ Do you still think about it, of what you did? _

_ Still see your old apartment, like a bad trip _

_ Wish I could forget all the places we've been _

_ Hard and heavy whiskey goodbyes _

_ Boy, you know how to make a girl cry _

_ Was sleeping in a bed full of lies _

_ And now that I'm older, I can see why” _

_ \-- Hope by The Chainsmokers _

**__________**

Penelope can’t stop staring.

She has tried her best to for the better part of the last thirty minutes now, but every time she re-focuses her gaze onto something else-- anything else-- her eyes can’t help but wander back towards that yellow sweater. The pristine woolen yellow sweater that lacks the last six years of rips and stains that it’s clone has come to bear. 

The sweater that still belongs to Josie Saltzman.    

And, of course, the alcohol isn’t helping either.

Even though Penelope had performed a sobering spell before leaving Hope’s dorm room and heading off to her classes, she can still feel its lingering effects on her overall inhibitions and self-control… 

Or, better yet, lack thereof.

She knows she shouldn’t stare. It’s a rookie mistake, not to mention, also dead give away that something isn’t quite right with her.  

But, then again, how can she not?

It’s all so surreal. The classroom. The students. Even Dr. Bridges standing in the front of the blackboard, droning on about the history of secret covens within colonial America. Penelope’s been here before and yet… she hasn’t.

At least not in this version of reality.

By now Penelope should be en route to Belgium, under the guise of attending some hard to pronounce, witches only boarding school and not sitting here, in class. She should be in the process of tracking down Caroline and further pouring herself into any and all ancient texts that contain any reference whatsoever of the merge. 

But she’s not. 

Because this time around, leaving isn’t an option. Not without Josie safely by her side.

Penelope lets out a small sigh as she runs her hands through her hair and tucks a few loose strands behind her ears. She pulls her eyes away once again from the yellow sweater and glances over at the relic of a clock hanging above the classroom doorway. 

Only fifteen more minutes to go.

Fifteen more minutes before she can get another brief respite from the day-to-day mundanity that is school. 

God, how Penelope hasn’t missed this part. The pure and utter boredom of sitting around, hour after hour, day after day, pretending to listen to trivial pieces of useless knowledge that bear little to no importance in the world outside of the Salvatore School. 

Who the hell cares about knowing all of the names of the witches who founded the Oakwood Coven? Or which species of newts can be found in the eastern woods of Romania? 

No one. That’s the real, harsh truth. Not one single, fucking, soul. 

Nothing that Penelope learned during her first go-around at Salvatore had prepared her for what Hope and she were forced to encounter. Especially given that Alaric and the rest of the teachers operated under the asinine belief that teenagers had no need to learn defensive magic.

Thank god for Caroline. If it hadn’t been for her and her brutal, seven days a week, training regime, Penelope wouldn’t have even lasted the first six months within the real world. Or, better yet, had the foresight to use the morsus curse when fighting for her life against…

Penelope’s eyes wander back yet again towards Josie as her hand drifts up to trace her now non-existing scar. 

“Alright, folks. Enough on the lunar cycle for today. Let’s wrap things up a little bit early, shall we?” Dr. Bridges announces from the front of the classroom. “Remember, we will be discussing chapter 4 tomorrow of the Liechtenstein text, so please make sure you’ve read it.”

The sudden sounds of textbooks shutting and chairs scraping against the wooden floor snaps Penelope out of her thoughts and back into the reality of the moment. She lets out another sigh, this time accompanied by a crack of her neck.

“Can you get any more stalkerish, Satan?” Lizzie says, drawing the attention of those few students who have yet to leave the room as she does.

“Fuck me,” Penelope mutters under her breath and shuts her eyes, taking the briefest of moments to collect herself. 

Liz. 

No. She doesn’t go by Liz. Not yet at least. The shorter, more mature version comes later. After their first, real-world encounter with one another. 

It had been around the time of Hope’s 20th birthday. They had been camped out in a small town near Vienna for well over four months tracking a dead-end lead when the blonde-haired girl had shown up. At first, Penelope thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. That it was just an odd coincidence and nothing more. Austria was chock-full of icy blondes with piercing blue eyes. 

But then the girl approached Penelope in the darkened back corner of the local pub and simply uttered the phrase “Hello, Satan” and all lingering doubts instantly dissipated. 

It was indeed Lizzie Saltzman. Or, as she had re-introduced herself as “Liz” because Lizzie was someone who frankly didn’t exist anymore. Not after all that, she had borne witness to in the events of the past few years.  

Liz had sweet-talked her way into snagging the two of them a bottle of Bulliet from the bartender, which Penelope could only fathom the price tag given the scarce rarity of non-local spirits, and the two proceeded to drink as they talked for what seemed like a lifetime. It was the first-- and sadly only-- honest conversation that Penelope had ever had with the girl that once had wished she had never existed. 

As they drank, Liz had filled Penelope in on what had transpired post the Triad invasion and the irreversible side effects that the tainted bullet had had on Josie. She somehow managed to recounter the horrific events one by one, devoid of any signs of real emotion whatsoever, except for the noticeable unsteadiness of her hand every time she brought her glass up to her lips and took another sip. And Penelope sat there and did nothing more but listened. There had been a part of her that was dying to unleash her mountain of unanswered questions beyond the blonde, but somehow she sensed deep down inside that this wasn’t the time. 

That Liz just needed to talk.

It wasn’t until they were 3/4th of the way through the bottle, did Liz work up the nerve to ask about Hope. The question came so buried within their conversation that at first, Penelope thought it was a mistake. Merely her tipsy subconscious playing tricks on her. But Liz asked again. This time as clear as day. 

And Penelope couldn’t help but revel in the way that Liz’s face lit up as their conversation turned towards Hope. Liz seemingly wanted to know every last detail about the tribrid and yet, all the while still tried to keep some of her emotional cards close to her vest. But it didn’t matter. Penelope could read right through her anyway. There was a deeper reason for Liz’s sudden curiosity. One that Penelope, unfortunately, knew all a little too well. It was the same exact curiosity that had plagued her ever since the moment she left the Salvatore School. The one fueled by late-night thoughts and the endless “what if” scenarios that left unchecked could drive a person insane.

So, Penelope took a risk. A calculated risk, but a risk nonetheless. With a long sip of whiskey, she looked Liz dead in the eyes and revealed to her that Hope was madly in love with her. 

Without missing a beat, Liz smiled back and responded that the feeling was more than mutual… in fact, it had been for most of her life. 

The conversation abruptly ended soon after those words with Liz being suddenly pulled away by a phone call and then rushed goodbye. There had been a promise made that she would be in touch shortly for yet another round of drinks and late-night confessions, but unfortunately, it never happened. 

The news of Liz’s death came just a few weeks later.  It had been on the tip of Penelope’s tongue a million and one times to let Hope know about the rogue encounter, but she could never find the right moment to do so.  

“Uh… Eww. No thanks.” 

Penelope opens her eyes, allowing herself to take in the view of Lizzie Saltzman standing before her. A set of icy blue daggers stare right back along with the all too familiar arms folded across the chest stance that all but screams ‘I’m openly judging you’. 

It’s classic Lizzie. And God is it a bittersweet sight for sore eyes. 

The slightest hint of all-knowing smirk slide across Penelope’s lips. “Hello, Saltzman.” 

“I’ve told you a thousand times already. Leave my sister alone. Got it?” 

But Penelope doesn’t respond. Instead, she stands up from her desk and goes about packing up her belongings, never once letting the smirk drop from her face. It’s a deliberate move and one that Penelope more than knows will elicit the type of reaction that she needs in order to move the game along.

“Did you hear me?” Lizzie huffs out, slightly more impatient than before. 

Penelope still doesn’t bite. She maintains her composure as she pushes her desk chair in and then turns to fully face Lizzie head-on, locking her eyes in on the blonde. A momentary silence falls between the two of them as Penelope continues to smirk and watch as Lizzie fights against the ever-growing discomfort. 

“What?” Lizzie growls. She pulls her eyes away, pretending to glance at the ambient chatter coming from the nearby hallway, not able to withstand another second more of Penelope’s unsettling gaze. 

“Quick question for you… Why’d you let Roman escort Hope last night?” 

Lizzie blinks and shakes her head in slight confusion. “Huh?”

“At the pageant. You had the choice to escort Hope yourself after Landon was a no show. And yet you decided to let Roman step in instead? Why? You practically bent over backward just to ensure that Hope won. Why not be the one by her side?”

“I… I didn’t… How did you…” Lizzie grasps at words, trying her best not to appear too thrown off guard. 

“If I were you, I would’ve gone for it,” Penelope replies with a shrug. “Nothing wins a girl over more than being there when she needs you most.” 

Penelope throws in a playful wink for added measure as Lizzie continues to search for something-- anything-- to say in response. But all she can do is stand there, staring back at Penelope in complete and utter shock. 

“See you around, Saltzman.” 

And with that, Penelope up and walks out of the classroom as her smirk grows even wider than before. 

**__________**

“Penelope! Wait!” 

Penelope stops dead in her tracks as the sound of Josie’s voice echoes out from behind her. She’s been wandering the downstairs hallways now for the better part of the last hour, allowing herself to just get lost within the steady stream of Salvatore students. Sure, it’s not the most productive use of time, but it doesn’t matter. After the unexpected face-to-face with Lizzie, Penelope more than needs the space to sort through the ever-growing tidal wave of conflicting feelings brewing deep within the far depths of her mind.  

Penelope slowly turns around and instantly spots Josie battling her way against the dense sea of uniform-clad teens. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Josie responds a bit out of breath as she breaks through the last wave of students and joins Penelope. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“You have?”

“Of course I have. I’ve been trying to find you ever since the end of Medieval History… How on earth did you know that?”

“Know what?” Penelope responds slightly confused.

Josie gives a quick scan of the passing crowd for any signs of big ears and then grabs Penelope by the arm and pulls her into a nearby nook. “That Lizzie secretly likes Hope.”

Penelope can’t help but let a harsh chuckle slip out. Of course, Josie had overheard the exchange. She’s always has a tab on Lizzie whenever they’re together. Just like a mom of an overly mischievous toddler. One eye on them at all times, holding their breath and waiting for the next tantrum.

And it’s this-- Josie’s Achilles heel== that will lead to her ultimate downfall. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing. It’s just…” Penelope trails off, stopping herself before she inadvertently opens Pandora’s Box. “I guessed. That’s all.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I…”

“Enough with the bullshit, Penelope. You and I both know you’re good, but you’re not  **that** good,” Josie fires back with an underlying bite to her voice. “Tell me the truth. How’d you know?”

Penelope runs her hands through her hair and exhales a breath of air that she didn’t even realize she was holding onto. 

The truth.

Two words that are so simple yet so powerful. For Penelope, telling the truth has never been the easiest route when it comes to Josie. No. How could it be? Speaking the truth meaning running the risk of inflicting long-lasting pain. The kind of pain that leaves invisible scars along the soul. 

“Okay. You’re right. It’s wasn’t just a guess,” Penelope responds. “It was also Hope.”

“Hope?” Josie quirks an eyebrow at the mention of the tribrid’s name. “What about Hope?”

“She’s the one who told me about Lizzie. Apparently whatever went down between the two of them during the Miss Mystic Falls pageant opened her eyes to things that up until this point she’s been blind to… Or something like that.”

“And she told you this?”

“Don’t look so surprised, Jojo,” Penelope says channeling her old 16-year=old self for a brief moment. “I make quite the good confidant. You of all people should know that… I still haven’t told a soul about how you’ve got a secret kink for handcu--”

But before Penelope can finish her sentence, Josie clamps her hand down over Penelope’s mouth as her cheeks ignite with a noticeable reddish hue. “Enough… I get it… So Hope feels the same way?” 

“Without a doubt.” 

“Interesting…” Josie replies. “I always had a hunch that there was something there between the two of them… Too bad Lizzie will never act on it.”

“How are you so sure?”

Josie shrugs. “It’s Lizzie. No one knows her better than I do.”

“Then I guess I’m just going to have to push Furball to make the first move.” 

Now it’s Josie’s turn to chuckle but unlike Penelope’s, it’s filled with nothing but an abundance of warmth. And Penelope can’t help but smile at the way that Josie’s nose crinkles up as she does. 

God, how she has missed this. 

“Okay. Now it’s my turn… What’s so funny?” Penelope asks.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes,” Josie matches Penelope’s smile. “I can’t put my finger on it, but… I don’t know… You just seem different somehow.”

“Different in a good way?” 

Josie bites down on her lip as she gives a small nod. “Yeah. I think so.” 

“Well maybe I’m trying to turn over a new leaf,” Penelope responds nonchalantly. 

Josie reaches forward and ever-so-gently tucks a loose curl of Penelope’s raven hair behind her ear and then lets her fingertips linger for a few moments upon Penelope’s cheek. Penelope feels her breath slightly catch as she fights the urge to fully lean into it. “Promise me something?”

“Anything,” Penelope eagerly replies.

“No more lies, okay?” 

And instantaneously, Penelope’s whole body stiffness. No. Not that… Anything but that one request. It’s the one promise she can’t uphold. 

Penelope swallows down the dry lump of emotions bubbling up within her throat and then ever so subtly moves her hand behind her back and crosses her fingers. “Okay.” 

“Good.” Josie smiles in return. Penelope starts to open her mouth to say something-- anything-- more, but before she can manage to utter a single word, the bell rings.

“Shit. I’m going to be late to History of Ruins,” Josie says as a look of panic sweeps across her face. “Let's talk later… Maybe during study hall?”

“Sure.” And once again, Penelope finds herself utterly frozen, unable to do anything more than watch as Josie disappears from sight. 

God, is this going to be harder than she ever imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this took forever to crank out, but hopefully, it's worth the wait.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts in the comments below and enjoy!


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What did you do?”
> 
> “Nothing… It’s no big deal. I just…” Penelope pauses to take a deep breath of air and--
> 
> “ImightveletitslipthatyoulikeLizzieSaltzman.”
> 
> “What?” Hope tilts her head, now thoroughly confused.
> 
> “I told Josie that you like Lizzie.” 
> 
> “Ok. I’m not following… Why would I think I’d care about that? It’s not a secret that I’m friends with Lizzie.”
> 
> “No.” Penelope sighs. “Not like that. Like you ‘like’ Lizzie.”  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> Penelope finally get some quality one on one time with Josie.

**Chapter 4**

_“But she said, "Where'd you wanna go?_

_How much you wanna risk?_

_I'm not looking for somebody_

_With some superhuman gifts_

_Some superhero_

_Some fairytale bliss_

_Just something I can turn to_

_Somebody, I can kiss_

_I want something just like this"_

_\-- Something Just Like This, Chainsmokers_

**__________**

“Don’t kill me.” 

“Why?” Hope asks. She shuts her textbook just as Penelope flops down in the empty armchair next to hers. 

Penelope gives the library a quick look around and is hit with yet another crushing wave of deja vu. Nine times and counting since returning. Every inch of the school that she steps foot into seems to trigger this unsettling feeling. Like an inescapable lucid dream.  

“No reason really,” Penelope responds snapping back into the moment. She runs her hands through her hair and sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “You know what… Forget I even said anything.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing… It’s no big deal. I just…” Penelope pauses to take a deep breath of air and--

“ImightveletitslipthatyoulikeLizzieSaltzman.”

“What?” Hope tilts her head, now thoroughly confused.

“I told Josie that you like Lizzie.” 

“Ok. I’m not following… Why would I think I’d care about that? It’s not a secret that I’m friends with Lizzie.”

“No.” Penelope sighs. “Not like that. Like you ‘like’ Lizzie.”

A flicker of realization sweeps across Hope’s face and then quickly is replaced with Hope’s standard look of mild annoyance. ”I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, really?” Penelope says with a smirk.

“Really.”

“You know your left eye does this weird half-twitch thing whenever you lie, right?”

Hope doesn’t respond. Instead, she lets out a weighted sigh and shakes her head at Penelope and for the briefest of moments Penelope catches a glimpse of her Hope. The one that she could playfully bicker with for hours on end without ever crossing the line. 

A stray pang of homesickness cuts through Penelope but she quickly swallows it down. This isn’t the time nor the place for such emotions. Not when there’s so much at stake. 

“Why are we even talking about this? Shouldn’t you be over there, trying to get back into Josie’s good graces?” Hope motions towards the far side of the library and Penelope instantly spots the familiar yellow sweater. 

Josie sits at one of the long study tables accompanied by both Lizzie and MG, nose buried within a textbook. At first glance, she seems oblivious to Penelope’s existence but the longer Penelope watches, the more she notices how the siphoner tends to tilt her head upwards every few seconds or so. Not enough to fully make eye contact, but enough nonetheless. She’s more than aware. 

Penelope pulls her eyes away as her fingers once again drift upwards towards her neck, searching for the non-existing scar. “I’m working on it.”

“By sitting here with me?”

“I said I’m working on it,” Penelope repeats herself with a bit more bite to her voice. “I can’t just waltz right on over there and start talking to her.”

“Why not?” Hope asks.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously… Why can’t you?”

“Well, for starters, Blondie’s in guard dog mode which means I won’t be able to get within twenty feet of Josie without her attacking me first,” Penelope replies with an exhale of breath. She runs her hands once again through her hair and then glances back over at Josie. 

“The Penelope Park I know would never let Lizzie Saltzman get in her way… Especially not when it comes to Josie.” 

“Yeah well, the Penelope Park you know doesn’t exist anymore… And this Penelope tends to be more cautious in these kinds of situations… Especially after what she’s seen.” 

A silence falls between the two of them as Penelope can feel the all too familiar sensation of Hope’s eyes studying her. Her skin crawls from it, but she refuses to give in, instead opting to keep her focus on Josie. Penelope knows that Hope’s standard interrogation will follow next. It always does. And then usually, after exchanging a few below the belt remarks, the conversation abruptly ends with one of them storming off in order to cool down. Or, on the rare occasion or two, Hope would forgo words altogether and instead force Penelope to spar with her until every last ounce of ongoing frustration dissipates into thin air.

But Hope does neither. Instead, she simply gets up from her armchair, stretches her limbs, and then starts to head towards the other side of the library.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Penelope calls out in a sudden panic. 

“To help,” Hope responds over her shoulder and then Penelope watches as Hope sits right down in the free seat next to Lizzie. They start to exchange words and within a matter of seconds, Lizzie gets up from the table and hastily heads out of the library with Hope following right behind her. 

A small smile spreads across Penelope’s face as the realization sinks in that no matter what timeline is, Hope always has her back. 

Thank god for that.

A few moments later, MG gets up and does the same, leaving Josie all alone. 

Penelope makes her way across the library but stops herself short of just up and sitting down at Josie’s table. Instead, she stands there awkwardly waiting for a cue that her company is welcome. A moment passes. Then another… and another… But no such sign comes. Josie remains buried within her textbook seemingly oblivious to the world around her.

Then, just as Penelope starts to turn to head back to her armchair--

“Aren’t you going to sit down?” Josie asks, eyes still glued to the text in front of her.

“Yeah. I was just…” Penelope trails off as she takes a seat. 

“Acting strange again?” Josie responds. She finally looks up and Penelope catches a much-needed glimpse of those rich chocolate brown eyes. A small but noticeable smile spreads across Josie’s face. “Are you sure you’re okay? You were out for quite a while in the infirmary this morning and that letter and--”

“I’m okay,” Penelope says, stopping Josie’s ran away train of thoughts dead in its tracks. Without even thinking, she reaches across the table and grabs hold of Josie’s hand. And for the briefest of moments, Josie allows it as if there was never a thousand-foot wall between them. But then, she quickly pulls her hand back, pretending to suddenly need to re-adjust her sweater. 

“Well, you don’t seem it… You should take my advice for once and go get checked out again. There could be something seriously wrong, Pen.” 

Penelope hums a non-committal response which instantly causes Josie’s smile to morph into a scowl. She knows that she should say something else… Something more along the lines of what 16-year-old Penelope would say. But tapping into that long dominate side of herself is turning out to be harder than she ever imagined. 

“What are you reading?” Penelope reaches across the table once again grabbing hold of Josie’s textbook and starts to skim it over. 

“Stop changing the subject.” 

“I’m not,” Penelope replies. “The Obice spell? That’s an advanced level blocker… Are you reading up on defensive spells?”

“No.” Josie snatches the book back from Penelope as a sudden look of guilt flickers within her eyes. “It’s for a research paper.”

“Riiiight.”

“It is,” Josie huffs. 

A momentary silence settles between the two of them and then--

“I could show you.”

“Huh?” Josie asks. 

“The spell. I can show you how to perform it, if you’re interested.”

“You know how?”

Penelope gives a nod. “Yeah. It’s not that hard.” 

“Okay…”

“Okay.” Penelope matches Josie’s words and smiles. She rises from the table and pushes her chair in. “C’mon.”

“Now?”

“Why not? Unless you really want to go sit through two hours of Dr. Bryce lecturing about the Salem Witch trials…”

“God no.” Josie gets up from the table as well and starts to hastily pack up her belongings. “Anything but that.”

“Good.” Penelope waits for Josie to finish up and then leads the way out of the library.

  **__________**

 

“Ave, et lapis. Elementa fiet unum. Salva me ex nocere,” Josie chants out loud as she rests her palm against a nearby tree trunk. She takes a moment to center herself and then turns towards Penelope, who’s standing a few yards away. “Okay. Go for it.”

“You sure?” Penelope calls back. 

“Yes. Hit me.” 

“Sicae pluviam super faciem terrae.” Penelope says with a flick of her wrist and suddenly--

 

Hundreds of branches snap off of the surrounding trees and sail through the air straight towards Josie. They inch closer and closer as Penelope watches on, eyes fixated on what seems to be a random area 10 feet directly above Josie’s head. 

“C’mon… C’mon…” Penelope mutters under her breath as the sticks pick up speed.

20 feet… 

15 feet… 

10 feet… 

“Shit!” Penelope’s hands jut out into the air. “Adolebitque in cineres abit!” 

Josie braces for impact but to her surprise, nothing happens. She glances up in confusion and notices that all of the sticks are now frozen in mid-air and fully engulfed in flames. A light shower of ashes fall down around her, blanketing everything in sight. 

“How did you…” Josie says in sheer and utter awe as Penelope quickly jogs over to her.

“Are you alright?” Penelope asks, ignoring Josie’s question for the moment. She scans Josie head to toe, checking for any sign at all of potential injuries. 

“Yeah. I’m fine…” Josie checks herself as well and then takes another look around at the falling ashes. “What spell was that?” 

“Lasracha. It’s an ancient Celtic spell created by a coven of rogue witches. Apparently they were big pyromaniacs or something like that.”

“And what does it do?”

“Mainly sets fire to anything you cast it at... But sometimes it can cause a minor explosion if you perform it under the right circumstances,” Penelope responds and instantly regrets it. It’s too much information. 

“So… You just happen to know an ancient Celtic fire spell?” Josie asks with a new level of underlying skepticism to her voice. Penelope swallows down the dry lump in her throat, runs her hands through her hair, and then produces a nonchalant shrug.

“Doesn’t everyone?” 

“Pen…” 

“What?” Penelope replies, trying her best to maintain her composure. 

“You promised.”

Penelope sighs. “I learned it from an old family friend two years ago. We were visiting Milan and somehow found ourselves in a situation where we needed to start a fire and fast. Anyway, she used Lasracha and it worked. So I made her teach it to me. Figured it might come in handy one of these days.”

Penelope holds her breath as she feels Josie’s eyes upon her. It isn’t a full lie. More like a half-truth if anything at all. 

Caroline, Hope, and her had indeed been visiting Milan. And they had wound up in a situation that required the use of Lasracha. But there had also been a rabid pack of Orges and a brutal battle that had left Hope with a ten inch scar running down the length of her right shoulder blade and Penelope with a 3rd degree burn on her upper left thigh. If it hadn’t been for Caroline’s quick thinking with the use of Laracha on the Orges, they wouldn’t have escaped the situation at all.

But those are details better left unsaid because it would only lead to more questions… Questions that Penelope merely can’t afford to answer. 

“Could you teach it to me?” Josie asks snapping Penelope back into the moment. 

“You?” 

“Yes, me.”

“The same girl who turned me into a human torch just a few months ago? Yeah… Don’t think so.” 

“It was an accident.”

“That cost me six inches of hair,” Penelope replies and motions up to her short, messy locks for added effect. 

“You should be thanking me.” Josie inches forward and Penelope’s brain all but short circuits. She openly stares, allowing herself to momentarily get lost within those chocolate brown orbs as Josie ever so gently reaches up and brushes a stray curl off of her cheek. “It’s way sexier this way.”

“Do you…” Penelope shudders as she tries to speak, but her words are nowhere to be found. “Do you want to…”

“Do I want to what?” Josie lets out a warm laugh. She draws her fingers down the side of Penelope’s cheek, lingering for a moment on the edge of her chin before pulling away. Penelope shuts her eyes and exhales. There are thousands upon thousands of ways she could answer that question. Her wants-- especially when it comes to Josie Saltzman-- are seemingly infinite. 

But raw honesty isn’t as simple as it first appears. 

Penelope inhales another deep breath of air. “Let’s try the spell again. I’ve got an idea.”

Josie tilts her head in sudden confusion. “Okay…”

“Here.” Penelope re-positions Josie away from the tree trunk and instead into a nearby clearing. “The spell didn’t work because the tree wasn’t a strong enough source. You need to siphon from something more powerful.”

“Right, but there isn’t anything--”

But before Josie can finish her sentence, Penelope takes hold of her hand and interlocks their fingers together. “There’s me.” 

“What?” Josie’s eyes dart down to their hands and then back up at Penelope. “No. I can’t… What if I hurt you?”

“You’re not going to hurt me, Jojo. Promise.”

Josie gives a small nod in confirmation, never once taking her eyes off of Penelope. She tightens her hold on Penelope’s hand and suddenly--

Penelope gasps. Every nerve in her body instantaneously ignites with a foreign tingling sensation. It grows from a mild annoyance to virtually unbearable within milliseconds. Penelope grits her teeth and fights against the urge to pull her hand away. Pain is unfortunately an all too familiar old friend.

“Ave, et lapis. Elementa fiet unum. Salva me ex nocere.” Penelope vaguely makes out the words as they tumble from Josie’s lips and then--

BAM.

The world goes black.

**__________**

“Pen… Pen… Please Pen…” 

Penelope rapidly blinks her eyes as the afternoon sunlight all but blinds her. A fresh wave of pain radiates outwards from the back of her skull and suddenly she realizes that she is no longer standing up, but is now laying on the ground instead.

“Fuck Jojo…” Penelope mutters with another hard blink. “Forgot how good you are at making me see stars.”

Two soft hands descend upon Penelope’s cheeks and Penelope can’t help but lean into the touch. God, how she has missed this. 

“You scared me,” Josie says, letting out a wet bark of a laugh. “I… I thought…”

Penelope pushes herself up a bit and gently places her hand over Josie’s, rubbing comforting circles with her thumb as she does. “Hey… It’s okay… I’m okay.”

Josie nods, but Penelope still sees a hint of lingering doubts within her eyes. 

“Jo… I mean it.” Penelope slowly leans in and rests her forehead against Josie’s. “I’m 100% okay.”

Josie closes her eyes, swallows back down the lump of emotions, and nods once again, this time with a deeper conviction. “Okay.”

Penelope matches Josie’s nod. “Good.”

And time seems to suddenly stand still. Penelope breathes in a slow, methodical rhythm, wordlessly nudging Josie to follow her lead. In and out… In and out… Until their bodies move as one. 

“JOSIE!!!!” 

Josie and Penelope instantly fall out of sync as the sound of Lizzie’s voice bellows out from the nearby woods. 

“Shit. She sounds--”

“Unhinged?” Penelope says with a slightly devilish smirk. 

“No. I was going to say upset.” Josie playfully pushes Penelope backwards, breaking their connection. She rises to her feet, dusts herself off, and then offers Penelope her hand. “I should go see what’s going on… You going to be around later?”

“Of course.” Penelope replies. 

“JOSIE!!!!” Lizzie’s voice cuts through the air again, slightly closer than before. Josie glances in the direction of the sound and then back at Penelope with an apologetic look. “I’ll come and find you when I’m done.” 

“I’ll be waiting, Beautiful.” The pet name rolls off of Penelope’s tongue and instantly, she’s struck with a pang of regret. She braces for the inevitable backlash but surprisingly enough is met with a warm smile instead. 

“Okay.” Josie gives Penelope one last nod and then takes off, disappearing into the dense wall of trees.

Penelope watches, waiting until Josie is completely out of sight before letting go of the breath of air she’s been holding onto.

“Fuck me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the more tidbits I write about Penelope and Hope's adventures with Caroline, the more I find myself wanting to write a prequel about it... Would any of you be interested in it?
> 
> Also, please feel free to comment away. Would love to know your thoughts on this chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope out a bark of a laugh. “No… God no. It’s not about him… But I guess it could be. It depends on how you look at it.”
> 
> “Alright… So… If it’s not about Landon, then who…” Penelope trails off as a wave of clarity all but blindsides her. She doesn’t need to finish her sentence because she already knows the answer.   
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------  
> Penelope and Hope have a heart to heart.

_ “I walk through this world, just tryna be nice _

_ They say I'll get hurt, if I'm not like ice _

_ I know I've got friends, I still get so lonely _

_ If I look in your eyes, I'll want you to hold me _

_ I'm sorry that I care, care _

_ I'm sorry that I care, care _

_ It's really not that fair, fair _

_ I can't help but care” _

_ \-- Feeings, Hayley Kyioko _

**__________**

“Yo! Penelope! Wait up!” MG yells from across the dining hall as he jogs to catch up with Penelope. 

Penelope stops, letting the sea of exiting students pass by her. 

After ending their impromptu spell lesson in the woods with a literal bang, Penelope hadn’t returned to classes, opting to spend the remainder of the afternoon buried deep within the comforting stacks the library instead. Book had always been a bit of a sanctuary for her. No matter the time nor the place, they were ever constant. A reliable anchor in the chaotic sea of Penelope’s life.

Once leaving the Salvatore School and becoming nomadic, books— non-magical books— were a real luxury. Sure, there was always an abundance of ancient spell books laying around and Caroline loved to surprise Hope and Penelope every so often with an obscure text on mythical rituals and covens. But anything that fell outside of those realms was rare at best. 

The only book that Penelope had managed to keep amongst her few belongings-- besides her journal-- was a mangled copy of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. It had been a one-month anniversary gift from Josie. A simple paperback version so that she didn’t have to lug around her first edition hardcover copy whenever she felt like re-reading it. It was her favorite. Not only within the series but possibly out of all the books Penelope had ever read. There was just something so oddly reassuring about the story itself. The ability to go back in time and right the wrongs of the past. 

Although Penelope had had to make the gut-wrenching decision to leave the book behind-- opting to take Josie’s yellow sweater instead-- she did remember that there was a stray copy of the book hidden away deep within the school library in the section where all the modern books with pop-culture references to witchcraft lived. And after locating it, she had curled up in one of the free wingback chairs and allowed herself to get lost within its pages. 

Sure, it wasn’t the most productive use of her time-- especially given the ever-present countdown ticking away in the back of her mind-- but one that still needed nonetheless. A little extra reassurance that just maybe there would be a happier ending to their story this time around.

But after an hour or two of non-stop reading, Penelope’s hunger had gotten the best of her and she decided to wander down to the dining hall for an early dinner. And to her luck, it had been almost deserted, with only a few young students sprinkled throughout the hall. 

The plan had been to eat quick and then retreat back to the safety of her own dorm room in the hopes that maybe Josie would be true to her word and swing by later. In and out. Unnoticed. As if it were just another day at Salvatore.

And for the most part, it had been successful… Until now.

“Hey, I’ve been trying to track you down all day,” MG says slightly out of breath. “What’s going on?”

“What’d you mean?” Penelope responds, trying to mask the growing ball of nerves within her stomach. 

“What’d I mean?? Pen, you were all set to up and peace out of here last night. You swung by my room to say goodbye and yet… You’re still here. What gives? I thought you were done with this place?” 

“I changed my mind.” Penelope holds her breath and silently says a prayer that MG will accept her answer at face value rather than digging a little bit deeper. 

“You mean Josie changed your mind.” 

“No… Not exactly… I just…” Penelope fumbles over her words, but it doesn’t matter. MG’s eyes light up with an all-knowing spark regardless. 

“Ah… I knew it! I… knew… it! You two are the freakin’ modern-day Romeo and Juliette man. Star crossed lovers. Destined to be together no matter what happens and all that shit.”

“MG…” 

“No, seriously Pen. That’s you and Josie. You guys give the rest of us hope, you know?” 

“Please tell me you aren’t still hung up on Lizzie.” 

“A boy’s gotta dream,” MG responds with a bit of shrug.

Penelope sighs. She shouldn’t do it… Just let sleeping dogs lay. It will all work itself out in time. MG will meet another vampire-- a transfer student from Denmark-- during his senior year at Salvatore, fall head over heels in love and forget all about his unhealthy obsession with the blonde-haired siphoner. The two will end up getting married and even go on to have an adorable baby boy who shares MG’s infectious smile. She really shouldn’t. But--

“Piece of advice?”

“Always from you.”

“Pick a different dream.”

“But--”

“Trust me on this, MG.” Penelope reaches out and places her hand down on MG’s shoulder, locking eyes with him as she does. “Pick a different dream.”

It takes a moment to sink in but then slowly MG’s face transforms into a look of common understanding. He gives a nod in return.

“Good,” Penelope replies and offers up a sympathetic smile. It isn’t much but it’s all she can think of doing without further crossing the line. “I’ve got a mountain of reading to get through tonight, so maybe we can continue to catch up in the morning? Over breakfast?”

“Yeah sure.”

“Great.” 

“Oh, wait! Pen, there’s something else,” MG says with a sudden urgency to his voice. “It’s Hope.”

“Hope? What about her?”

“Dunno. Think she got some bad news about Landon or something. She seemed pretty choked up last I saw her. Like she had been crying. Figured you might wanna know.” 

“Shit. Malivore,” Penelope mutters under her breath.

“Maliv- What?”

“Nevermind… Thanks for the heads up.”

“Yeah, no prob--” But Penelope doesn’t wait for MG to finish his sentence before taking off out of the dining hall and diving straight back into the sea of students.

**__________**

“ Mikaelson! Open up,” Penelope bangs against Hope’s dorm room door a few minutes later sweaty and out of breath. 

“Go away, Penelope,” Hope answers back, voice trembling with tears. 

“Not happening.” Penelope waits for a minute or two for any sign of a further response but is only met with silence. She lets out a frustrated sigh. “Fuck.”

Penelope takes a giant step back from the dorm room door and shuts her eyes. “Aperi ianuam.”

BANG.

The dorm room door flies open and slams against the wall causing Hope to jump out of her skin. “What the fuck?! Did you just use magic to break into my room?”

“Relax,” Penelope replies. “I do it all the time… Or I used too… You get what I mean.”

Penelope crosses the threshold into Hope’s room and then mutters an incoherent phrase under her breath. The door shuts close followed by an audible click. “See? Good as new.”

“Not the point.” Hope settles herself back onto her bed. She swipes at her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan, in an attempt to mask all traces of her tears. But it doesn’t matter. Penelope already knows. Six years of spending every single moment side by side with the Tribrid and she doesn’t need much in regards to cues. All it takes is a slight quiver on the end of a word or a brief flash of raw emotion buried deep within those golden eyes. That’s all. And Penelope can piece the rest of the puzzle together.

Every time.  

“Move,” Penelope says as she climbs onto the bed and wedges herself next to Hope. 

“What are you--”

“No seriously… Move over.” Penelope gives Hope a nudge in the ribcage with her elbow and Hope obliges. “God, you’re such a bed hog.”

Hope shoots Penelope a hard eye roll. “Am not.”

“Oh, you so are, Furball. And a mad cuddler too, but we’re not gonna get into that one right now,” Penelope replies and slumps her head against Hope’s shoulder. It’s a selfish move… Especially given that this isn’t her Hope, but at the moment, she doesn’t care. It’s been beyond a day and her skin itches with the need for just a little bit of familiarity. “Right now we’re gonna talk about why you are hiding out in here and crying.”

“I wasn’t--”

“Let’s skip bullshit, okay? You were. And it must be about something pretty big cause you brought out Mr. Bearrington.”

Hope’s eyes instantly glance towards her nightstand where a raggedy old teddy bear sits slumped over on top of a pile of textbooks. “How did you…”

“I told you, Mikaelson,” Penelope says with a hint of a smirk. “I know you.”

“God, this is so weird.”

“You’ve got no idea.” 

A momentary silence settles within the room as Hope leans over to the nightstand and scoops up the teddy bear. She rubs her fingers in methodical circles along the stuffed animal’s threadbare ear over and over again and Penelope knows that this is her cue to sit tight and wait. 

Words will come. They always do. It’s just a matter of giving Hope the proper amount of time and space needed to wade through her inner tumultuous sea of thoughts and emotions first. 

Another minute or two passes by and then--

“Okay,” Hope says, breaking the silence. She stops rubbing the teddy bear and sighs. “You’re right. I was crying.”

“About Landon?” 

“Landon?” Hope asks with a sudden quirk of her eyebrow.

“Yeah. I thought… MG mentioned that you… Wait. This isn’t about Landon?”

Hope out a bark of a laugh. “No… God no. It’s not about him… But I guess it could be. It depends on how you look at it.”

“Alright… So… If it’s not about Landon, then who…” Penelope trails off as a wave of clarity all but blindsides her. She doesn’t need to finish her sentence because she already knows the answer. 

In fact, they’ve had this same exact conversation before. Except for the first time when it happened, they had been sitting on the rooftop at 3 am in Paris and halfway through their second bottle of Jack Daniels. It had been on the night that Caroline had let it slip that Lizzie was dating someone new… A Romanian witch named Violet. 

At first, Penelope didn’t think twice about it. Caroline was always providing them with tidbits of information from the world that they once called home. And that specific comment had seemingly been no different than the rest. Just another brief update intermixed within their normal dinner conversations. 

After it was said, though, Penelope noticed that Hope’s entire demeanor had instantly changed. She seemed off with a look upon her face that was only reversed for those rare moments when her emotions were too strong to hide from the outside world. 

So Penelope did what she always did in those situations when she needed Hope to open up. She guilty tripped the Tribrid into joining her for a nightcap at a local pub and proceed to all but pour shot after shot down Hope’s throat. 

It took six shots in total. Six shots to crack through Hope’s stoic facade and finally get to the real root of the problem. Hope had indeed been thrown off by the news about Lizzie. 

But it wasn’t until four hours later when they had stumbled their way back home and ontop their apartment rooftop, did Hope reveal the full truth to Penelope. She had been head-over-heels in love with Lizzie Saltzman since she first time she had laid eyes on the blonde-haired siphoner.

The conversation that followed was one of the best-- and most honest-- conversations that the two of them ever had with each other. It had, in short, be a turning point for their relationship. The moment where they transitioned from friendship into something so much more. 

“I know you said you can’t reveal too much about the future, but can I ask you something?” 

“Sure. Anything,” Penelope responds without missing a beat.

“Do I…” Hope pauses for a moment and lets go of a breath of air. “Do I ever end up getting together with Lizzie?”

The question cuts deep. Ripping straight through Penelope’s soul. 

God, how the hell is she supposed to answer this? It’s such a simple yet complex question. 

Penelope blinks away a hint of tears from her eyes and then forces a reassuring smile upon her lips. “Let’s say that if you both had had the chance to, you and Liz would’ve been together in a heartbeat.”

“She goes by Liz?” Penelope nods and Hope matches her smile. “Liz… I like that.”

“Yeah. The name fits her… At least the future her.”

Hope slinks down a bit, resting her head against the top of Penelope’s and once again exhales. “I was crying because… I think I’m in love with Lizzie Saltzman.” 

“Oh, you are.” Penelope yawns and cuddles in closer, nuzzling up into Hope like she has done countless times before. “And she’s madly in love with you too, Mikaelson.”

“She is?”

“Without a doubt,” Penelope mumbles as her eyelids slowly succumb from the sheer emotional weight of the day. “Okay. My turn to ask you something.”

“Of course. What is it?”

“Would you mind if napped here for a bit? It’s been a crazy long day and just that I can barely keep my eyes open… But if it’s too weird or strange, I can always--”

“Stop,” Hope cuts Penelope off and proceeds to reach down to the foot of the bed and grabs a blanket for the two of them. “Of course you can.”

“Thanks.”

“But if you start to snore, I’m kicking your ass out,” Hope replies with a yawn as well. 

“You’re the snorer, Furball. Not me,” Penelope whispers already half-sleep. 

Hope shakes her head with a look of amused annoyance and then wraps her arm around Penelope as she gets comfortable. “So freakin’ weird.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a fluff chapter but couldn't help myself. Love writing Penelope and Hope brotp. 
> 
> Promise more Posie to come in the next chapter! 
> 
> Enjoy!


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you doing tonight?” Penelope blurts out in a sudden burst of confidence. 
> 
> “Nothing really. Probably going to stay in and get a head start on our 17th-century magical artifacts essay. Why?” 
> 
> “Want to hang out?” 
> 
> “Just the two of us?” Josie asks with a hopeful spark within her chocolate brown eyes.   
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> Penelope finally makes a move and then has a heart-to-heart with Hope

**Chapter 6**

_ “I'm gonna paint you by numbers and color you in _

_ If things go right we can frame it and put you on a wall _

_ And it's so hard to say it but I've been here before _

_ Now I'll surrender up my heart and swap it for yours” _

_ \-- Lego House, Ed Sheeran _

**__________**

BEEP.

BEEP.

BEEP.

“Fuck,” Penelope grumbles, face down in a mound of pillows. “Turn off freakin’ your phone, Mikaelson!”

Penelope waits for a minute or two, but the alarm keeps on beeping. 

“Ugh!” Penelope flings the comforter off of herself and is hit dead on with the sudden realization of where exactly she is. This isn’t Hope’s bedroom from their apartment, but it’s her dorm room instead. She must’ve fallen asleep last night and never left.

Penelope runs her hands through her tangled mess of hair and takes a moment to collect herself. She once again notices the incessant beeping and looks around the room for its source. There, beside the nightstand sits an alarm clock with a note addressed to her.

Penelope reaches over, hits the alarm off, and then snatches up the note. 

**_Pen—_ **

**_I went to go train at the docks. Set my alarm so you wouldn’t sleep the whole Saturday away. Come find me when you get up._ **

**_—Hope_ **

**_P.S. You snore like a full-grown mountain troll._ **

A small smile crawls across Penelope’s lips. “And you snore like a werewolf with sleep apnea, Furball.” 

Penelope pockets the note, then gathers up her belongings and slips out the door. She starts to move down the deserted hallway, beyond thankful that weekends at Salvatore means everyone is either sleeping in or are off-campus when suddenly--

“Pen?” 

Penelope freezes at the sound of Josie’s voice. “Shit.”

“Did you just leave Hope’s room?” Josie asks. Penelope slowly turns and spots Josie standing in the middle of the hallway, hands-on-hips, with a look of utter confusion written all over her face.

“Sorta…” 

“Sorta?” Josie responds with a quirk of her brow. She moves closer and as she does, Penelope gets a good look at the beaten-up sweatshirt that she’s wearing. 

It’s a navy Salvatore school hooded sweatshirt.

It’s her sweatshirt.

That sweatshirt had been one of Penelope’s prized possessions back when she had attended the school the first time around. It had been one of those articles of clothing that had grown on her over time until it became her go-to comfort item whenever she was feeling under the weather or didn’t want to deal with the outside world. Her metaphorical coat of armor.

Penelope had been sure that she had lost it shortly after she had broken up with Josie. One minute it had been in the pile of clothes on the floor in the corner of her dorm room and the next it was nowhere to be found. She had spent months scouring every inch of the school for her sweatshirt. Even going as far as to question Lizzie as to its whereabouts. But it never turned up. 

Not once. 

Not until this very moment. 

“Is that my sweatshirt?” Penelope questions and Josie’s face instantly ignites with a deep reddish hue. 

“Sorta…”

“Sorta?” Penelope mimics back. She can’t help but feel the beginning of a smirk form as she watches Josie grow visibly flustered.

“Okay. It is. But that’s not the point.” Josie lets out a huff and folds her arms. “Why were you in Hope’s room?”

“I’ve been searching for that sweatshirt for yea-- months now. How’d you get it?”

Josie bites her lip. “I might’ve borrowed it.”

“From my dorm room floor?” 

“Yes. Okay? I took it from your dorm room. Now, can you please stop changing the subject?” 

“I wasn’t changing the subject, Jojo.” Penelope’s smirk widens. “Just asking you a question. That’s all.” 

“Fine. I answered yours, so answer mine. Why were you in Hope’s room?”

“I…” Penelope hesitates as her mind scrambles for a believable enough excuse. 

“You promised,” Josie says softly. Her words are simple but still manage to knock the air right out of Penelope’s lungs. 

No more lies. 

But how?

Penelope swallows down her growing nerves and then runs her hands through her hair, tucking a stray curl behind her ear as she does. “I was in Hope’s room because I accidentally passed out in her bed last night.”

“You slept with Hope?” 

“Yes.” Penelope watches as Josie’s eyebrow shoot straight up into her hairline and instantly kicks herself in the ass. “Wait. No. Not in that way. Yes, we slept together in the same bed… but that’s all we did. Sleep. Nothing else. I swear.”

“Okay…”

“I stopped by last night cause Hope needed to talk and ended up falling asleep. I didn’t mean to stay all night but guess I was more exhausted than I thought. I literally just woke up.”

“I can see that,” Josie says. Her features soften once again as she reaches forward and gently tussles Penelope’s hair. 

Penelope breathes an invisible sigh of relief. 

Half-truths. 

That’s the best she can offer at the moment. Nothing more than that. It isn’t ideal. Not by a long shot. But what other option is there?

“Is Hope okay?”

“Yeah,” Penelope replies, thankful for the slight shift in topics. “She’s fine. Just needed someone to talk through some stuff with.” 

“And does that stuff happen to involve my sister?”

“I can’t say.”

“Pen…”

“No can do, Jojo. Besides I’ve said too much already. Hope swore me to secrecy.”

Josie laughs and shakes her head in amused disbelief. “Okay who are you and what have you done with Penelope?” 

“New leaf. Remember?” Penelope matches Josie’s laugh, unable to contain her ever-growing smile. Her inner voice screams at the top of its lungs for her to seize the moment and make a move. Something bold and daring like her 16-year-old self wouldn’t hesitate to do. 

But tapping into that long-dominant side of her isn’t quite as easy as she first thought it would be. Especially not in the presence of Josie Saltzman. 

A slightly awkward silence encompasses them as Penelope watches Josie start to fidget with the frayed string to the hood of her sweatshirt. Another signature tell. One that Penelope as witnessed countless times before. Even after all of these years, she still knows every last one of them. The lip biting. The fidgeting with ends of clothing. The slight tilt of her head-- down and to the left-- whenever growing too embarrassed for words. 

All are committed to Penelope’s memory, like a secret code that only she knows how to decipher. 

“Well I oughta--”

“What are you doing tonight?” Penelope blurts out in a sudden burst of confidence. 

“Nothing really. Probably going to stay in and get a head start on our 17th-century magical artifacts essay. Why?” 

“Want to hang out?” 

“Just the two of us?” Josie asks with a hopeful spark within her chocolate brown eyes.  

“Just you and me.” 

“Sure. I’d love to.” 

“Good,” Penelope responds as she feels herself slipping back into her old cool, confident facade.  “Cause I’ve got an idea.”

“Oh really?” 

Penelope hums a vague response and then adds a smirk for added measure. 

“What is it?” Josie asks, now fully intrigued. 

“Nope. Not telling.”

“C’mon… Not even a hint?” Josie inches closer and instantly Penelope’s senses are overtaken by the distinct mixture of vanilla and orange blossoms. Josie’s signature scent. 

The one that Penelope tried to recreate for at least two good years after departing from Salvatore to no avail. 

It smells like home. 

“Nope,” Penelope replies, pausing to inhale another breath of the intoxicating aroma. “You’ll just have to wait and see… Pick you up at 6?” 

“It’s a date,” Josie says and then without warning, leans in and plants a tender kiss on Penelope’s cheek, instantly rendering the raven-haired girl utterly useless.

“A date.” Penelope manages to produce a small nod in confirmation and watches as Josie takes off down the hallway.

**__________**

“Fuck… Fuck… Fuck…” Penelope paces the length of her dorm room a short while later. She runs her hands through her short curls, again and again, trying her best to keep her nerves in check. 

Two hours. 

Penelope has two hours left and… Nothing. 

Not even an inkling of an idea. 

“Fuck!” Penelope stops pacing and flops down onto her bed with a heavy sigh. 

“Hey, Park… Are you in-- Whoa!” Hope says as she opens Penelope’s dorm room door and comes to a crashing halt at the scene before her. Penelope’s room has been transformed into a massive wreckage of belongings with clothes and books covering almost every inch of space. “What happened?”

Penelope sits up at the sound of Hope’s voice. “Josie Saltzman. That’s what happened.”

“Josie wrecked your room?”

“Not exactly…” Penelope falls back down once again against the bed and Hope moves to join her. 

“Okay. I’m not following… What does this have to do with Josie?”

“Josie saw me coming out of your room this morning.”

“Oh…” Hope’s eyes widen with a sudden understanding. “She didn’t think that we…”

“She did at first for like a minute but I was able to convince her that it wasn’t what she thought it was.”

“Thank god.”

“You’re telling me,” Penelope replies. “Not exactly the rumor I need running rampant around here at the moment… Especially given my circumstances.”

“So then why the Park-nado in here?”

“I asked Josie out.” Penelope exhales and runs her hands again through her hair. 

“And…?”

“And what?”

“And what else happened?” Hope responds still not fully following.

“That’s it,” Penelope says. She pulls herself off of the bed and returns to pacing the room. “I asked Josie to hang out with me tonight and made a big fucking deal about having some sort of grand plan up my sleeve and she said yes.”

“Okay… And her saying yes is a bad thing?” 

“No… Yes… Maybe…” Penelope pauses in front of her semi-empty closet and flips through the few remaining items of clothing again and again in hopes that she might’ve missed a hidden top or skirt amongst the rest of her wardrobe. “I dunno.”

“Why are you so stressed out? It’s Josie. You could show up in sweats with Chinese takeout and she would still think it was amazing.” 

“No she wouldn’t.”

Hope lets out a frustrated sigh and then pulls herself up off of the bed. She moves about the room, strategically gathering straying articles of clothing as she does. “What is wrong with you?” 

“Nothing. It’s just…” Penelope trails off as her fingers wander up towards her neck in search for her non-existing scar. “I thought I would have more time, you know?”

Hope walks over and shoves a pile of clothes into Penelope’s arms. “But you don’t. You’ve got what? Three days? So kick it into high gear, Park.” 

“I’m trying to.”

“No. You’re hiding out and making excuses.”

“Am not,” Park fires back but is only met with a hard eye roll from Hope.

“Are too… And why are you even dragging your heels in the first place on this? The Penelope Park I know sure as hell doesn’t freak out about anything… including Josie Saltzman.” 

Penelope doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she carefully looks over the clothes that Hope picked out for her, piece by piece as if she’s discovering them for the first time. Penelope stops on a pair of black leather pants and a small but noticeable smile unfolds upon her face. 

“What?” Hope asks picking up on Penelope’s sudden fascination with the pair of pants.

“These are your favorites.”

“Mine?”

“Yeah. These leather pants and a motorcycle jacket you got off of a witch in Istanbul. You wear them all the time. So much so that Caroline went and got you like four back up pairs for Christmas last year.” 

Hope can’t help but laugh as she lets this newfound piece of information settle in. “Really? Those pants?” 

Penelope nods. “The exact same pair. You stole them from my laundry pile during the first month we were living together and never gave them back.” 

“Interesting…”

“Here. Have them,” Penelope says and then tosses the pants at Hope.

“No, I couldn’t… They’re yours.”

“Take them. Besides they look way better on you than they ever did on me.” 

“Thanks,” Hope replies quietly while studying the pants. She sits back down on the bed and Penelope joins her, still holding onto the rest of the clothes. She watches Hope traces over the smooth leather with her fingers for a moment or two, knowing that the Tribrid needs time to process. 

She always does.  

And Penelope gives it to her, without hesitation. That’s just how it works with the two of them. Regardless of whether it’s the future or the past… or some hybrid in between. 

“Huh… Leather pants and a motorcycle jacket. Sounds pretty badass.”

“Oh you are,” Penelope answers with a smile. “Of course not as badass as me, but pretty damn close.”

“So what else should I know about my future self? I know you can’t tell me everything, but looks-wise… What else? Do I have any tattoos?”

“Tattoos yes. You’ve got like five… No, wait… You’ve got six. There’s the one on your left wrist that you keep hidden from view by your watch.” 

“What’s it of?”

“It’s an E and an S,” Penelope says and then sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, bracing herself for the inevitable follow up question.

“Elizabeth Saltzman…” 

Penelope nods. “Yeah.”

“Okay… What about piercings? Cause I’ve always wanted to get my septum--” 

“No!” Penelope cuts Hope off. “No septum piercing.”

“Um… I’m taking it there’s a story?”

“Oh yeah. A big one that involves a  Bulgarian vampire and stolen 15th-century daylight ring and me having to magically piece your nose back together.”

“You’re joking, right?” Hope replies in sheer disbelief. 

“God do I wish I was… Just trust me on the septum piercing, okay? It’s so not worth it and you look way better without it.” 

Hope shakes her head and smiles. “Alright. I believe you. No piercings.” 

“Oh, I didn’t say that… The nipples were a great choice and also--”

“Okay, you can stop now. I’m good. Thanks,” Hope says unable to hide the sudden underlying sense of shock in her voice.

“Too much?” 

“Just a little bit, yeah.” Hope leans across Penelope and fishes out an old concert t-shirt and a pair of perfectly ripped light gray jeans. “Here. Wear these.”

“These?” Penelope asks checking out the outfit. “You sure?”

“100%. Josie has mentioned that t-shirt at least ten times in the last three months. It’s a favorite for sure.” Hope rises to her feet and stretches, cracking her neck in the process. “Okay, I need to go get up close and personal with a hot bath before my muscles start to cramp up. But you’ve got this, Park. Just show up and be your annoying, smart-ass self and everything will go great. Trust me.”

“Thanks.” Penelope gives Hope an earnest smile and Hope returns it with a firm nod.

“Sure thing.” 

Penelope waits until Hope disappears through the dorm room door, before getting up off of her bed and walking over to the full-length mirror. She holds the outfit up against her body and gives herself a long, hard look. 

“I’ve got this,” Penelope says and then exhales, expelling the last of her fears and doubts in the process. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I couldn't help myself and wrote a bit more brotp Hope / Penelope in this chapter. The next chapter, though, will be a LOT more Posie. 
> 
> Enjoy!


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So,” Josie says taking hold of Penelope’s arm and linking it with hers. “Where are we going?” 
> 
> “You’ll see.” Penelope matches Josie’s smirk and gently pulls Josie’s body a little bit closer to hers. “You ready?”
> 
> Josie nods, leaning into Penelope until they fit together like two puzzle pieces.“Lead the way.”  
> \------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> One step forward and two steps back for Penelope.

**Chapter 7**

_ “All I knew this morning when I woke _

_ Is I know something now, know something now I didn't before _

_ And all I've seen since eighteen hours ago _

_ Is green eyes and freckles and your smile _

_ In the back of my mind making me feel like _

_ I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now” _

_ \-- Everything Has Changed, Taylor Swift _

**__________**

“I’ve got this,” Penelope whispered under her breath for the thousandth time in the last hour as she approaches Josie and Lizzie’s dorm room door. “It’s just Josie.” 

But that’s the crux of the problem. 

It’s Josie Saltzman.

And there’s no divorcing the sweet and innocent 16-year-old siphoner from years and years worth of past memories of the other version. The one that tends to haunt the darkest recesses of Penelope’s mind. 

The Josie Saltzman, who quickly became notorious for the wake of death and destruction wherever she went. The one that murdered her twin sister in cold-blood. 

The one who almost killed--

Penelope’s fingers go to trace the scar on her neck and is once again reminded that it no longer exists. 

It never happened. 

At least not yet.

Maybe not ever if Penelope can manage to pull herself together and complete her mission. 

“C’mon, Park. Stop hesitating,” Penelope says, channeling the words of Hope. She does one final check of her faded Pearl Jam concert t-shirt and jeans, runs her hands through her hair, and then knocks on the dorm room door. 

A moment passes and then--

The door opens to reveal not Josie but Lizzie instead. The blonde-haired siphoner stands within the doorway, arms folded and looking as though she is the quintessential definition of ticked off.

“What do you want, Satan?” Lizzie asks with an extra level of annoyance to her voice.

“Hello, Liz.” Penelope calmly replies. “Is Josie home?”

Lizzie’s face instantly morphs into a look of utter bewilderment. “Did you just call me--”

“Pen!” Josie emerges from behind her sister and Penelope’s heart instantly swells at the sheer sight of the girl that she loves more than life itself. Although clad in a simple crimson sweater and dark denim jean combo, she looks nothing short of stunning. 

“Hey,” Penelope says as her face lights up with a smile. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks. So do you.” Josie blushes. Penelope watches as a familiar set of chocolate brown eyes work their way over her, taking in her entire look from head to toe. “Love the t-shirt.”

Penelope makes a mental note to personally thank the Tribrid the next time she sees her as she feels her cheeks flush with the tell-tale signs of embarrassment. “Someone might’ve mentioned to me that it was a favorite of yours.”

“Ugh!” Lizzie interrupts with an exasperated huff of air. “Can we please get back to what you called me? How did you know that--”

“Lizzie, not now,” Josie says. The sudden authoritative tone in her voice instantly throws both Lizzie and Penelope for a loop. They both stare at Josie for a moment, sharing a look of confusion.

“Excuse me?” 

“Just drop it, Lizzie. Okay?” Josie scoots by Lizzie and joins Penelope out in the hallway. “I’ll be back later. If dad swings by can you cover for me? Tell him I’m at the library working on that anatomy of a vampire essay he assigned us last week. Or something else along those lines.” 

“Yeah. Fine,” Lizzie mutters, still very much thrown off by Josie’s sudden dominance, and then retreats back into their dorm room and shuts the door. 

Josie turns back towards Penelope and spots the look upon her face. “Everything all right?”

“Okay… Who are you and what have you done with Josie?” Penelope playfully responds causing Josie to laugh. 

“You know you’re not the only one who can turn over a new leaf.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yup.” Josie pops the ‘P’ and then flashes Penelope a smirk of her own for added effect. 

“Good to know.” 

“So,” Josie says taking hold of Penelope’s arm and linking it with hers. “Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see.” Penelope matches Josie’s smirk and gently pulls Josie’s body a little bit closer to hers. “You ready?”

Josie nods, leaning into Penelope until they fit together like two puzzle pieces.“Lead the way.”

**__________**

“I still don’t get why I had to close my eyes,” Josie says a little while later as Penelope carefully leads the taller girl out through the attic window and onto the roof. “I know where we are.”

“The location is not the surprise, Jojo.” Penelope positions Josie in a secure spot and then reaches back through the window with her arm while making sure to keep her eyes on Josie. 

“Can I open them now?”

“Just… One… Second… More…” Penelope gropes around with her hand for a moment or two and then suddenly stops as the flick of a light switch cuts through the night air. “There… Go ahead and open them.”

Penelope holds her breath and watches as Josie slowly opens her eyes and gets her first glimpse at their surroundings. 

It had taken some advanced level magic and last-minute help from both MG and Hope, but somehow Penelope managed to recreate the same exact fairy garden that Josie had surprised her with on her birthday all those years ago. 

The lights… The picnic blanket… Every last detail, a perfect mirror image.

“Pen… Is this…”

“The fairy garden. Yeah. It is… Or at least as close to it as I could get.” 

Josie slowly moves around the roof fully checking it out, in slight disbelief. “But how?”

“A good witch never reveals her secrets,” Penelope replies with a smirk. “You like it?”

Josie nods. “I love it.”

“Good.” Penelope gently reaches out and takes hold of Josie’s hand, leading the taller girl to join her on the blanket. The two sit down and Penelope pulls out a bottle of wine from the nearby basket. “I know you usually like red over white, but this is all I could get my hands on given the last minute notice.” 

Josie laughs in mild amusement. “You got us a bottle of wine?”

“And maybe some aged gouda too… And those buttery crackers that your dad likes to hide on the top shelf of the pantry behind the canned lima beans… Oh, and wait until you see the best part,” Penelope rambles on as she uncorks the wine and pours Josie a glass. 

“I can’t believe you did this. We were just supposed to be hanging out, Pen.”

“And we are… See?” Penelope motions to their surroundings with her free hand. “It just so happens to involve a little extra decor and snacks, that’s all.”

Josie hums a response and then takes a sip of her wine as the two sit side by side, enjoying the stillness of the night. 

And for the briefest of moments, Penelope lets herself forget. No hidden motives or lingering secrets. Just Josie and her. Sitting together in their favorite spot and basking in each other’s radiance.

But then the moment passes and the flood of memories crashes back down upon Penelope. She closes her eyes and swallows the dry lump of emotions building within the back of her throat. 

“What are you thinking?” Josie asks.

Penelope inhales and then forces a smile back on her face. “Nothing.”

“Pen…” Josie scoots over next to Penelope until the entire length of their bodies are touching. She gently places her hand down on Penelope’s thigh and gives it a squeeze. “It’s not nothing… You’ve got your deep thoughts wrinkle. Right there. On your forehead above your right eyebrows.” 

“My deep in thought wrinkle?” Penelope lets out a laugh as Josie gives her an adamant nod.

“Yup. Right…” Josie leans in closer and with a feather-like touch, traces the wrinkle upon Penelope’s forehead. “There.” 

Penelope’s heart rate to instantaneously skyrocket from the sudden touch as she’s hit with the overwhelming urge to kiss Josie. It’s a simple move. One that her 16-year-old self wouldn’t think twice about making. And yet… 

“This is my favorite memory,” Penelope says with an underlying raw honesty to her voice. 

“Memory?” 

“Yeah.” Penelope swallows down her emotions once again and then runs her hand through her hair. “Not of us sitting on the roof, but of my birthday. The one where my parents stood me up and you surprised me with the indoor fairy garden in your room. It’s my favorite memory.”

“Of us?” 

Penelope shakes her head and then looks up at the blanket of stars above them. “Not just of us. It’s my favorite memory of my life… I know, cheesy right? But it’s the only thing that has helped me get through the past few ye-- months. I don’t know… There’s just something about it. How you went out of your way to surprise me, even though I was being stubborn and told you I didn’t want you to do anything for my birthday. You somehow just knew what I needed the most… That memory reminds me that no matter how much I fuck up or how horrible life gets there was at least one moment in my life where someone truly loved me.”

Penelope holds her breath and continues to stare up at the sky as a deafening silence all but engulfs them. 

Too much. 

Too much, too soon.

Josie says she wants honesty, but… 

Honesty comes at a price and more often than not, it’s one that most people aren’t willing to pay. 

And Penelope more than knows this from years upon years of first-hand experience.

At the end of the day, no one really wants honesty… 

What they really want is the reassurance that everything will be okay… 

Even if it’s a lie. 

“Penelope,” Josie’s voice cuts through Penelope’s thoughts as she feels the all too familiar sensation of a hand upon her cheek. She quickly blinks back the tears pooling up in the corners of her eyes and exhales. “Penelope, look at me.”

Penelope slowly brings her gaze back down from the sky until her eyes meet Josie’s. They stare at one another for a moment or two as the world around them seems to all but fade away, and then--

Josie leans in and seizes Penelope’s lips, pouring out a lifetime worth of raw emotions as she does. 

It takes a second for Penelope’s brain to process what is transpiring, but then she kisses back, matching the siphoner’s intensity. She snakes her hands into Josie’s soft chocolate brown locks and pulls her closer, desperate for more contact. 

God, how she’s missed this.

Penelope goes to deepen the kiss but suddenly Josie pulls back, breaking them apart. 

“I’m sorry…” Josie starts to say as a look of pure fear whirls within the depths of her eyes. “I can’t…”

“Jojo…” Penelope goes to reach for Josie’s hand, but it’s too late. Josie is already up on her feet and hastily making her way back towards the window.

“I can’t do this.” 

And with those words, Josie disappears back into the attic, leaving Penelope all alone with nothing but her endless amounts of conflicting thoughts and regrets. 

**__________**

An hour later and Penelope finds herself in Alaric’s office, scouring the bookshelves for his secret stash of whiskey. 

She had lingered up on the roof alone for a while, just staring up at the star and fighting tooth and nail not to give way to the tsunami of tears, but then it had gotten too cold. So Penelope had headed to the one place where she knew no one would come looking for her… and also, so happened to be the only place on campus where she knew for certain she would be able to find something suitable enough to help her drown her sorrows.

Breaking into Alaric’s office had been surprisingly easy. Too easy. But then again, after years worth of breaking and entering, there wasn’t a lock on the face of the earth that Penelope couldn’t crack… especially with a little-- or a lot-- of magic. 

“C’mon…” Penelope mutters under her breath as she pulls back book after book. “It’s gotta be here somewhere.”

Penelope reaches for a rather large looking textbook on the end of the shelf and suddenly--

CLICK.

A hidden door swings open on the bottom panel of the bookshelf, revealing a secret stash of alcohol. 

“Yes! Thank you, Dr. Saltzman, for being such a predictable lush.” Penelope snatches up a bottle of fireball whiskey and then starts to head back towards the office door when a picture frame sitting on the desk catches her eye. She moves closer to investigate and is instantly hit with an invisible sucker punch straight to her stomach.

The picture in the frame is of Caroline.

Penelope puts down the bottle of whiskey on the desk and trades it out for the picture frame instead. She makes her way over towards the cracked leather couch, unable to pull her eyes away from the photo. 

“Hi…” Penelope exhales. She continues to stare for a moment or two longer and then--

Tears.

Two distinct trails flow freely from Penelope’s eyes as the dam breaks and the tidal wave of emotions that she’s been working so hard to hold back finally burst through. She sobs uncontrollably until her body shakes from the sheet weight of the last two days. 

“God, I wish you were here so you could tell me what to do,” Penelope says as the tears subside and she’s finally able to catch her breath. “Cause I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a mixture of fluff and angst... cause I can't seem to help myself when it comes to the angst. But I promise it's only temporary. There is much more posie related fluff coming in the next chapter.
> 
> Holler away down below with your thoughts and enjoy!


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A heavy moan of pure ecstasy escapes Penelope’s lips. “Baby…”
> 
> “Shh…” Josie swallows Penelope’s moan with another searing hot kiss as her hands continue to further unwrap Penelope like a much-anticipated Christmas present. “Let me take care of you.”  
> \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> Josie makes up for running out on Penelope.

 

_ “Crawling underneath my skin, sweet talk with a hint of sin _

_ Begging you to take me _

_ Devil underneath your grin, sweet thing, bet you play to win, heaven gonna hate me _

_ And touch me like you never _

_ And push me like you never _

_ And touch me like you never _

_ 'Cause I am not afraid, I am not afraid anymore _

_ No no no” _

_ \-- Not Afraid Anymore, Halsey _

**__________**

Warmth.

That’s the first thought that registers with Penelope as she slowly comes into consciousness. There’s a strangely familiar warmth of arms around her body, holding her close in comfort. 

But who do the arms belong to?

Penelope’s mind begins to race, quickly replaying the fragments of memories from last night. She had gone to Alaric’s office in search of alcohol and found the bottle of whiskey and then…

Then the memories grow fuzzy. There are flashes of the school courtyard. And the woods. And even the dock.

Why the hell did she go down to the dock?

“Stop moving. It’s too early to get up,” Hope mumbles from behind Penelope. She re-adjusting her grip on the raven-haired girl, nuzzling her head into the crook of her neck in the process.  

“Hope?” Penelope questions in slight confusion. She blinks away the sleep from her eyes and right away notices that once again she’s in Hope’s dorm room.

“Who else would it be?” Hope fires back, sounding more awake than before.

“Oh god… How did I end up here?” 

“You want the short or the long answer?”

Penelope rolls over to face Hope and runs her hands through her bedhead. “Neither?” 

Hope lets out a sigh. “MG and I found you passed out on the docks late last night with a half-empty bottle of whiskey.” 

“Shit,” Penelope mutters under her breath as she internally kicks herself in the ass for being such a hot mess.

“How did you end up at the dock in the first place? Weren’t you supposed to be on the roof with Josie?”

“I was…”

“Okay…”

“But things didn’t exactly go as planned,” Penelope says with a long exhale of air. She stares up at the ceiling, unable to deal with the Tribrid’s eyes upon her. “We kissed.”

“You did? That’s awe-- Wait… So what went wrong? Cause last I checked that’s a good thing.”

“It was. It was beyond good. It was amazing.”

“Was?”

“We kissed and then Josie freaked out on me and told me that she can’t do this.”

“Ouch…” Hope says sucking in air between her teeth. 

“Yeah. And then she up and ran off before I could say anything else.” Penelope grabs the pillow from beneath her head and then pulls it over her face in utter frustration. “Ugh… I need more time.” 

“How much time is left?”

“Two days,” Penelope mutters in an almost incoherent voice through the pillow. 

“You serious?”

“Dead serious.” 

Hope wrenches the pillow of Penelope’s face and half-jokingly smacks her with it.

“Hey!”

“Penelope ‘I would use your middle name if I knew what it was’ Park. Stop sulking and get your ass outta my bed.”

“It’s Charlotte.” Penelope props herself up onto her elbows and sighs once again.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“I would’ve guessed it was Lucifer,” Hope replies with a smirk. Penelope snatches the pillow up and hits Hope back with it.

“Not funny.”

“Oh, c’mon. It was a good one.”

“Seriously, Hope. What am I supposed to do? It’s not like I have the luxury of letting her work through her emotions for a few days and then try again.” 

Hope pries the covers off herself, swings her legs out of the bed, and then walks around to Penelope. “Get up.” 

Penelope stares at Hope in confusion but Hope doesn’t let it stop her. She grabs hold of Penelope’s hands and yanks her up out of the bed. 

“Get out, Penelope.”

“But--”

“You’re gonna head back to your room, change your clothes, run a hairbrush through your hair, and go hunt down Josie.” 

“But she doesn’t want to--”

“Yes, she does. Trust me. And you and I both know it. There’s no one else in the world that Josie Saltzman wants more than you,” Hope continues on, outright ignoring Penelope’s protests. She places her hands on Penelope’s shoulders and steers her towards her dorm room door. 

“Hope, I--”

“Go! And don’t you dare think of bringing your ass back here until you’ve found her.” Hope opens the dorm room door and gives Penelope a firm shove.

“I hate you,” Penelope says over her shoulder. 

“No, you don’t,” Hope answers back and then shuts the door, nipping Penelope in the heels as she does. 

“Fuck.” Penelope runs her hands through her hair one more time as the truth behind Hope’s words settles down upon her. She needs to find Josie… and now.

__________

“Jojo?” Penelope blurts out in surprise as she opens the door to her dorm room and comes face to face with the sight of the brunette siphoner sitting there smack dab in the middle of her room… on her bed. 

“Hey,” Josie responds quietly, bringing her rich chocolate brown eyes up to meet Penelope’s. “I didn’t know when you’d be back so I thought I would just wait here.”

“Yeah. I crashed in Hope’s room again.” Penelope slips into the room and shuts the door behind her. 

“I know.” Penelope watches as Josie starts to fidget with the frayed string of her navy Salvatore sweatshirt and can’t help but feel a hint of a smile crawl across her lips. 

Josie is in the sweatshirt yet again. 

Her sweatshirt.

“You do?”

Josie nods. “I’m the one that told Hope and MG that you were missing. I came looking for you in your room and couldn’t find you so I went to Hope’s. She mentioned that she hadn’t seen you either. So we all split up and searched for you at all of the usual spots. It was Hope’s idea to check dock.” 

“I just needed some air,” Penelope responds unsure of what exactly to do or say in the given moment. She awkwardly shifts from foot to foot still unable to bring herself to move from the confines of the doorway. 

Penelope has played these hypothetical Josie moments over and over again in her mind thousands of times before. Always refining the precisely right combo of words and actions she would use to make the siphoner fall back in love with her. Like a well-rehearsed play written directly to her heart. 

There was supposed to be time for a proper build-up. Tiny moments, like stolen glances in their chemistry of magic class or sharing laughter over one of MG’s lame dad jokes during lunch in the dining hall. One after the next, until they morphed into something more. Something that would naturally lead Penelope back down the familiar path to Josie’s heart. 

There was supposed to be time…

“Pen, I--”

“It’s okay,” Penelope says, cutting Josie off before any further damage can be done. She swallows the dry lump residing in the back of her throat and then tucks a few loose strands of hair behind her ears. “I get it.” 

“Pen--”

“No, really. It’s okay, Josie. You don’t have to explain. I should’ve--”

“Penelope!” The use of her full name stops Penelope dead in her tracks. She stands there frozen, eyes scanning Josie’s face for a sign-- any sign-- of what’s to come next. 

“Please, just come here,” Josie pats the open spot beside her on the bed. It takes a moment for Penelope to register the request but then makes her way across the room and joins Josie. They sit there, side by side, in the awkward silence for what seems like an eternity, bodies impossibly close but still not touching. 

Once again, Penelope’s inner 16-year-old self screams at the top of its lungs to say something.

Anything.

But words are simply nowhere to be found. 

Not when all Penelope can concentrate on is the sheer proximity of Josie in relation to herself. They are innately magnetic. Always have been. Ever since that very first moment that Penelope set eyes on the brunette siphoner. Drawn to one another by some unknown force, regardless of the situation. 

And Penelope more than knows that this invisible magnetism won’t ever go away… Not even when Josie is no longer Josie. 

A fresh set of chills runs down Penelope’s spine as she pushes the thought back down into the dark recesses of her mind. She can’t go there. 

Not now. 

Not when there’s still a chance to prevent those horrific memories from ever transpiring.

“I’m sorry,” Josie says, finally breaking the silence between them. 

“It’s okay, I--”

“Pen, I need you to just listen.” Josie ever-so-gently places her hand down upon Penelope’s thigh and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Josie nods. “I shouldn’t have run out on you last night. Especially not right after we kissed. I just… I freaked out and didn’t know what to do. Ever since you mentioned the Merge in your letter, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. And what that means for my future… And Lizzie’s. What if there’s no way to stop it? What happens then? Lizzie and I are forced to battle each other to the death? I… I can’t do that. Not to Lizzie. So that means I’ve got what? Six years left to live? It sounds like a lot of time but when you compare it to a lifetime, it’s really nothing at all. And it would be so selfish of me to inflict that death sentence on anyone else, but I… I can’t help it… All I want is you.” 

Penelope reaches up and takes hold of Josie’s cheeks within the palms of her hands, wiping away a fresh tear. She locks eyes with the set of rich chocolate brown ones staring back at her as a hint of a bittersweet smile emerges upon her face. “Jojo, You already have me.”

Before Penelope can finish her sentence, Josie’s lips are upon her, instantly melting away any remaining traces of fear and doubts. The kiss is unrelentingly savage. And Penelope can’t get enough. She kisses back, matching every ounce of Josie’s intensity, falling into a sudden tug-o-war for dominance. 

After a moment or two, Josie pulls out of the kiss, but not before giving Penelope’s bottom lip a suggestive nip for good measure. She stares at Penelope with an uncharacteristic lustful look as a devilish smirk spreads across her cherry red lips. “Shirt off.”

“Jo…” Penelope slightly hesitates causing Josie to take matters into her own hands. She playfully shoves Penelope back onto the bed and in one swift move, swings her leg over, pinning Penelope by her hips. 

“I’m not asking,” Josie follows up while grabbing hold of the hem of Penelope’s shirt. She pulls it off in one fluid motion, taking Penelope’s bra off with it. 

A warm shiver washes over Penelope as her skin ignites from Josie’s touch. 

God, is it addicting.

A heavy moan of pure ecstasy escapes Penelope’s lips. “Baby…”

“Shh…” Josie swallows Penelope’s moan with another searing hot kiss as her hands continue to further unwrap Penelope like a much-anticipated Christmas present. “Let me take care of you.”

Before Penelope can even utter a protect, Josie unzipped her jeans and gently peels them off her legs. She marks bruising trail down the slope of Penelope’s neck to her collar bone and then goes to work on to the swell of her breasts. 

“Fuck me,” Penelope moans again unable to contain the raw desire coursing through her veins. She’s fantasized about this moment-- this very exact moment-- day in and day out for the last six years and yet not that it’s happening, it doesn’t feel quite real. As if somewhere along the way she slipped from consciousness into one of her more than favorable dreams.  

“Oh, I plan to,” Josie laughs against Penelope’s hip bone and then hooks her fingers into the thin strip of black cotton. “But first these need to go.”

Penelope happily obliges, lifting her hips off of the bed as Josie slides her last article of clothing off of her body and then tosses them aside. She watches as the love of her life, briefly hovers above her, eyes roaming over every last inch of flesh that Penelope has to offer. Josie bites her lip and smiles. 

“What?” Penelope asks matching Josie’s infectious smile with one of her own.

“I love you.”

And that’s all it takes for Penelope’s heart to explode. “I love you too, Jojo.”

Josie hums a response and then proceeds to descend downwards until settling in on the one spot where Penelope needs her the most. Penelope closes her eyes and fully let’s go as her body is all but consumed with infinite love and desire.


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penelope feels Josie inhale deeply, tickling her skin as she does. “Are you smelling me?”
> 
> Josie inhales again and then nods sheepishly. “Maybe…”
> 
> “Let me guess… I smell like cheap whiskey and lake water?”
> 
> “No. You smell like… I don’t know. You smell different than I remember.”
> 
> “Different?” 
> 
> “Yeah. Not a bad different… But just different.”  
> \----------------------------------------------------------------------  
> Penelope and Josie spend some quality time together.

**Chapter 9**

_ “I remember all of the things that I thought I wanted to be _

_ So desperate to find a way out of my world and finally breathe _

_ Right before my eyes, I saw, my heart it came to life _

_ This ain’t easy, it’s not meant to be _

_ Every story has its scars _

 

_ When the pain cuts you deep _

_ When the night keeps you from sleeping _

_ Just look, and you will see _

_ That I will be your remedy _

_ When the world seems so cruel _

_ And your heart makes you feel like a fool _

_ I promise you will see _

_ That I will be, I will be your remedy.” _

_ \-- Remedy, Adele _

**__________**

“Jojo…” Penelope sighs as the brunette playfully nips at the tender flesh of her collarbone.

“What?” Josie responds, and Penelope feels a familiar smirk expand against her skin. “Don’t tell me you’re tapping out already?”

“No. Of course not,” Penelope scoffs in a less than convincing voice. “I can go another twenty rounds.”

“Uh-huh.” Josie leaves one last mark upon Penelope’s collarbone and then nuzzles herself into the raven-haired girl’s body. Penelope can’t help but smile as she wraps her arms around Josie and pulls her even closer. 

“You don’t believe me?” 

Josie lets a light chuckle slip out. She buries her head even further into the crux of Penelope’s neck and mumbles an incoherent response.

“I’m going to take that as a yes.” Penelope reaches up and begins to play with a loose strand of Josie’s chocolate brown locks as a strange sense of calmness washes over her. 

God, how she has forgotten how good this can feel. 

Laying in bed naked, bodies tangled up like headphone cords, merely just existing in each other’s presence. No distractions nor people to get in the way. Or even the looming threats to what’s to come. 

Nothing at all except for the two of them.

Penelope and Josie.

Penelope feels Josie inhale deeply, tickling her skin as she does. “Are you smelling me?”

Josie inhales again and then nods sheepishly. “Maybe…”

“Let me guess… I smell like cheap whiskey and lake water?”

“No. You smell like… I don’t know. You smell different than I remember.”

“Different?” 

“Yeah. Not a bad different… But just different.”

“Okay,” Penelope laughs. 

“What?”

“Nothing. Just that’s the third time you’ve said that to me in the last two days.” 

“It’s true,” Josie replies, causing Penelope to quirk a brow. “But in a good way. It’s like you’re more mature or something.”

“So, you’re saying I was childish before?” 

“No… Ugh. I should’ve never opened my mouth.” Josie buries her head once again in the crook of Penelope’s neck, and Penelope lets out another laugh. 

“Hey,” Penelope gently tucks her fingers under Josie’s chin, lifting her head up until they are eye to eye. “It’s okay. I get what you’re saying.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. Of course, I do. The whole new leaf thing wasn’t just lip service. I really meant it. I’ve been working on things over the last few ye… months.”

“Really?” 

Penelope nods as her smile further softens. “Really.” 

“What kind of things?” Josie asks with genuine interest as she rolls her body over and props herself up with her elbow. 

“All kinds.” Penelope matches Josie’s position and props herself up on her elbow as well so that they are lying face to face. “I’ve been working on my spells a lot. Mainly strengthening my overall effectiveness, but also my ability to control the magic once I cast it as well.” 

“You can control it?”

“Sometimes… It takes a great deal of concentration,” Penelope replies. “Here. I’ll show you.” 

Penelope fixates in across the room on a stack of papers sitting on top of her desk. She whispers an indecipherable phrase under her breath and then flicks her finger out towards the stack. 

A single piece of paper floats up into the air and begins to slowly fold itself into an origami crane. 

Wordlessly, Penelope flicks her fingers to the left, and the paper instantly freezes mid-fold. “Okay. Now watch.”

Penelope doubles down her concentration on the piece of paper and then starts to move her fingers slowly in a counter-clockwise pattern. As she does, the paper begins to unfold itself, step by step, until it is back to its original form. It then floats back down onto the stack, as if it had never been touched at all.

Penelope breaks her gaze and looks back at Josie, who’s wearing a slightly confused expression upon her face. 

“Okay… So… You folded it and then unfolded--”

“Paper didn’t unfold,” Penelope cuts her off as a bit of an all-knowing smirk slides across her lips. 

“You did. I saw it.”

“No. You didn’t.”

“Pen, I did too. I just watched it with my own two eyes.”

Penelope’s smirk widens. “It wasn’t the paper, Jojo. It was time.”

“What?”

“I reversed time.”

“Wait…” Josie says as Penelope’s words start to sink in. “Time as in… Time itself?”

“Yup. I reserved time on the paper. But only for like two seconds so that it would go back to its original position. This way, to the untrained eye, it simply looks like I casted a secondary spell on it.”

Josie glances over at the stack of papers as her forehead start to crinkle with the tell-tale signs of utter bewilderment. “How…”

“It takes some advance level magic and a shit ton of concentration. But once you get the hang of it, it isn’t that much harder than casting something like a ‘regrowth’ spell… Or one of those protection charms that Dr. Waters loves to teach.”

“And you learned this all by yourself? In just a few months?” 

Penelope internally cringes at these questions. 

No. Of course, she hadn’t. It had taken a good two years of almost daily practice, along with countless intense meditation sessions, to master the art of time manipulation. And even then, when she finally got the hang of it, it still took yet another year until she was able to perform it on the fly. Or as Caroline loved to call it… under extreme duress. 

It had been the number one spell that Caroline had insisted on both Penelope and Hope mastering. And although, at first, Penelope hadn’t understood why over time, it quickly became the most valuable spell within her entire arsenal. 

In fact, if it hadn’t been for that one single spell, there would have been no stopping the knife that almost took Penelope’s life the night her and Hope faced off against--

“Pen?” The sound of Josie’s voice pulls Penelope back into the moment. 

“Sorry. Got lost in thought,” Penelope says as her fingers gently trace the patch of skin where the thin, white scar should reside. “I learned it from an old family friend. It’s a popular spell within my coven. Super useful in the defensive magic department. I can teach you if you want to learn. Fair warning, though, it requires a whole lot of training.”

“Like one on one training?” Josie asks, unable to hide the suggestive smile that’s starting to form upon her face. 

“Yeah,” Penelope laughs in response and then runs her hand through her hair, tucking a loose strand or two behind her ears in the process. “Would you be okay with that? Cause if not, I can always teach it to you in more of a group-like set--”

“Pen. Stop.” Josie leans forward and plants a reassuring kiss on Penelope’s lips, causing the raven-haired girl to immediately relax. “I would love that.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Josie says with a nod and then, without another word, scoots her body back towards Penelope until there’s no space left between them. Penelope returns the gesture with a tender kiss on the top of Josie’s head. She wraps her arms once again around the brunette and is instantly overtaken by the sheer and utter warm of it all. 

“I would love that too,” Penelope whispers back with a sigh of content. “I really would.”

**__________**

A couple more hours later and Josie convinces Penelope that they need to at least make an appearance in the dining hall for dinner or else someone-- and by someone, she means Lizzie-- will come looking for them. Penelope begrudgingly agrees but not before making sure to prolong their time together for as long as she humanly can with an additional encore performance or two.

It might be overkill, but given the looming circumstances just around the corner, Penelope doesn’t care too much. 

Every moment matters.

Even the seemingly trivial ones.

It’s one of the many “Caroline-isms” that has managed to stick with Penelope throughout the years. And one that has time and time again proven itself to be more than true. 

Chance encounters and brief exchanges filled with seemingly unimportant words. All presenting themselves at the time as a throwaway moment. But it’s only after when time gives away to reflection, do their real truths rise to the surface.

And the last six years of Penelope’s life has been nothing more than these moments. One after the next. So much so, that she’s learned to take the time-- even if there isn’t any spare time to take-- to evaluate each and every interaction she has. 

Every last moment. 

Because that’s just it. That moment could possibly-- or with her luck is more than likely-- be the last one of its kind. 

“Hey! Look! They are alive,” MG calls out to Penelope and Josie as they make their way through the crowded dining hall towards the table that Hope, MG, and Lizzie are sitting at. The sight of extra-wide, toothy grin causes Penelope to want to instantly turn around and retreat back into the safe confines of her dorm room once again, but then she feels Josie ever-so-gently take hold of her hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

“You ready?” Josie whispers under her breath to Penelope. 

“Do we have a choice?” Penelope responds in a half-joke.

“We can nix dinner and go back to your room instead. My dad always makes sure that there are leftovers available in the student fridge on Sunday evenings for people who miss out on dinner. Maybe we could--”

“No,” Penelope cuts Josie off with an exhale. “We’re already here. Might as well bite the bullet and face the inquisition.”

Josie squeezes Penelope’s hand once again for added measure and then proceeds to guide the rest of the way towards the table.

“We were just about to draw straws on who should go get you two. Glad you surfaced on your own,” Hope says as Josie and Penelope sit down across from one another. “Have a good Sunday?” 

“Amazingly good,” Josie responds without missing a beat, and Lizzie immediately pretends to gag on the bite of her meatloaf.

“Ugh. No. Not happening.” Lizzie lets her fork clang down against her plate and looks over at Josie with a slightly disapproving stare. “Can we please hold off on anything remotely related to your return to the dark side until after dinner? Some of us are trying to eat here.” 

“Salty much?” Penelope asks as she leans over and steals a french fry off of Hope’s plate. 

“Evil much?” Lizzie fires back with an underlying sting of invisible venom that puts the entire table on edge. Sets of eyes discretely ping-pong between Lizzie and Penelope, all accompanied by shared looks of concern. 

Penelope knows that she’s playing with fire but can’t seem to help herself. The allure of irking the blonde-haired siphoner is just too irresistible.  

“Whatever you say…” Penelope pauses, taking a moment to fully lock eyes with Lizzie. She pops another french fry into her mouth and then produces one of her signatures smirks. “Liz.”

The chain reaction is instantaneous. Hope chokes mid-sip of water. Josie and MG quirk their heads in union with a shared look of confusion. And Lizzie… 

Lizzie narrows her icy blue eyes in on Penelope. “What did you call me?”

“What? I called you Liz.” Penelope replies with a casual shrug in between mouthfuls of fries. “It’s just a nickname. Like you call me Satan.”

“Park…” Hope mutters under her breath rapidly growing more concerned by the minute.

“How do you know?” Lizzie questions too focused on Penelope to notice anything else. 

“Know what?”

“Lizzie, it’s a coincidence. That’s all,” Josie chimes in.

“No. Nothing is just a coincidence when it comes to the Dark Lord,” Lizzie snaps, whipping her attention over to Josie. “She called me Liz twice now. She knows.”

“Know what?” MG asks.

“Hey. I’ve got an idea…” Hope says, but it falls on deaf ears. All eyes are solely on Lizzie.

“Yeah. What am I supposed to know?” Penelope questions with a sudden genuine quality to her voice.

In all honesty, Penelope doesn’t fully know why Lizzie up and made the switch over to Liz. She had guessed at the time it was done to further distance herself from the reputation that her twin sister was rapidly gaining throughout the supernatural community, but maybe she had been wrong. 

Maybe there had been a more profound meaning… 

Josie waits for a moment, looking at Lizzie to answer, but is only met with an intense scowl in return. She lets out a sigh in annoyance and turns back towards the rest of the table. “We went to this carnival once when we were twelve and got our futures read by some tarot card reader. The whole experience was super strange. The woman kept calling Lizzie ‘Liz’ even though we corrected her like a million and one times and going on and on about how the name was tied to Lizzie’s destiny. The sooner she embraced it, the better off things would be. Or something like that.” 

“Something like that? Josie, the woman’s exact words were ‘pay attention to those that choose to call you Liz. For those are the ones who have already seen where your path will take you’. And now look who’s calling me Liz? Satan herself. Again, not a coincidence. She knows something,” Lizzie replies.

Penelope suddenly finds herself struggling to swallow down her current bite of fries. She spots Hope’s eyes slightly widen as well at the revelation but tries not to focus in on it too much. 

Shit.

She’s gone too far.

“That’s one cryptic ass fortune to give a twelve-year-old,” MG comments.

“Oh, that wasn’t even part of my fortune. This all happened before my reading even began,” Lizzie responds. “The woman then proceeded to ramble on for like twenty minutes about how my soulmate would have amber color eyes, a strong liking for extra raw steaks, and wears a leather jacket.”

Hope does a full-on spit take, spraying a mist of water all over her tray of food, grabbing the attention of the table.

“You okay?” Josie asks Hope in earnest. 

“Yeah,” Penelope replies, unable to contain her amusement. “You alright, Mikaelson?”

“Yup.” Hope wipes off her face and tries to re-compose herself. “Never better.”

“Anyway… As Josie said, the whole experience was super odd, to say the least. So clearly, I’ve got my reasons to be extra suspicious of anyone who suddenly chooses to up and call me Liz.” 

“I get that,” MG nods. “But think Josie’s right on this one. It’s Penelope. Not some mysterious person who you just met. How could she know the future?” 

“Who wants to take a road trip to New Orleans?” Hope blurts out, causing a round of instant whiplash at the table. 

“What?” Lizzie asks.

“New Orleans. Who wants to go with me?”

“Now?” Josie follows up, now thoroughly confused. 

“No. Not now. But how about tomorrow? My Aunt Freya mentioned that there’s this massive supernatural gathering going on right now in New Orlean that only happens once every 200 years and invited me to come down to see it. So I was thinking about skipping out of classes for a few days to go visit them… Penelope’s already agreed to come,” Hope explains and then discretely shoots Penelope a ‘please for the love of god play along’ look.

“You did?”

“Yeah,” Penelope says with a lingering bit of uncertainty to her voice. “Why not? Thought it could be fun.”

“Count me in,” MG responds.

“Me too.” Josie flashes Penelope an excited smile and Penelope instantly melt at the sight. 

“Excuse me?” Lizzie stares at Josie in shock. 

“Oh c’mon, Lizzie. You love road trips.” 

“Pre-planned road trips, yes. Impromptu, let’s skip school for a few days to travel halfway across the country for some random witch gathering? Not so much. Besides, what about dad?”

“He left this morning for New York. I saw him as he was leaving for the airport. Apparently, he got a call from mom late last night about something that she needs him to check out and will be gone until Friday. So there’s no need to worry about him noticing we’re not here.”

“But--”

“Please?” Hope cuts in with a raw honesty that immediately throws Lizzie for a loop. 

Lizzie slowly turns to face Hope as her eyes scan the Tribrid’s face for any sort of inkling that she’s being punked. “You want me to go?”

Hope nods and offers up a timid smile in return. 

“Oh…” Lizzie responds, and Penelope watches as the blonde-haired siphoner’s body language makes a dramatic shift from tense and hostile to nothing more than a mush pile of emotions. “Then, I guess I could tag along.”

Penelope catches Josie’s eyes, and the two exchange a small but all-knowing smile as well. 

“Yes!” MG exclaims. “So when do we get the hell outta dodge?”

“How about first thing in the morning? Right after breakfast? The front entrance is always dead around that time since everyone is trying to get to class. We could totally slip out unnoticed,” Josie suggests. 

“What about transportation? We can’t just magically teleport ourselves to New Orleans?” Lizzie questions.

“Let me take care of that one,” MG says in between monstrous bites of his cheeseburger. “Kaleb owes me a favor or two.” 

“Works for me,” Hope replies. “Park?”

“Sounds like a plan.” And as soon as the words leave Penelope’s mouth, an eerie sense of calmness washes over her. 

There’s a plan.

Maybe it’s half-baked-- and that’s if she’s being generous-- but a plan nonetheless. And it involves them getting as far away from the Salvatore School as humanly possible.

Penelope lets out a slight sigh of relief and then once again catches an all too familiar set of chocolate brown eyes staring at her longingly from across the table at her. She flashes Josie, a playful smirk accompanied by one of her signature eyebrow shrugs, and like clockwork, a noticeable blush spreads like wildfire across the brunette’s cheeks.

Just maybe there’s still hope for them after all.

Maybe… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit of a fluff chapter but needs since the story going to kick it into high gear from here on out. 
> 
> As always, let me know what you think down below.
> 
> Enjoy!


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tell me.”
> 
> “I can’t.”
> 
> “Pen, I can handle it. Just tell me.”
> 
> Penelope swallows down the monstrous lump of emotions residing in the back of her throat and takes a moment to blink away her tears. Then, she locks eyes with Hope and releases a breath of air that up until this very moment, she didn’t realize she was holding on to. 
> 
> “She kills Lizzie.”  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> Penelope finally tells Hope the full truth about their future.

 

_ “But I never stopped or gave up _

_ I couldn't ever let you go _

_ 'Cause in the end, I was innocent, I was innocent _

_ I let you know that it's no good _

_ But you could never say it first _

_ I know you're hurt _

_ Tell me how you feel, tell me how you feel _

 

_ Cause I got something to tell you, but I don't know why _

_ It's so hard to let you know that we're not seeing eye to eye _

_ Because I know if I tell you that everything's alright _

_ Oh, we could stay in this moment, I'd never say goodbye _

_ Oh, I'll never say goodbye” _

_ \-- Something to Tell You, HAIM _

**__________**

“New Orleans?” Penelope asks as she crosses the threshold of Hope’s dorm room a short while later. She flops herself down on the bed, falling face-first into the mound of covers. 

“New Orleans,” Hope responds following close behind. She shuts her dorm room door and then collapses on to the bed next to Penelope.

“We’re not actually going to New Orleans, right?”

“We can if we want to.”

Penelope lifts her head up and looks over at Hope with confusion. “Wait. So you were telling the truth back there?” 

“Sorta. There isn’t any gathering going on. I totally pulled that part out of my ass, but I do have a standing invite with my Aunt Freya.”

“How long would it take us to get there?”

“Ten hours if we don’t stop.” Hope pauses for a moment, catching sight of the skepticism written all over Penelope’s face. “Okay. Or more like fifteen.”

“We should book a hotel somewhere near the halfway point just in case.”

“Already done,” Hope replies. “Made a reservation for three rooms at a hotel near Pensacola.”

“Three?” 

“Yeah. One for MG. One for you and Josie. And one for Lizzie and me,” Hope races through the last part of her sentence with a rushed exhale of air and Penelope can’t help but laugh.

“What was that, Mikaelson?”

“You heard me,” Hope says as a deep reddish hue spreads across her cheeks.

“I think I heard you say that you booked a hotel room for you and Lizzie to share.”

“I don’t know… Or she can share with MG if she wants to.”

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“Okay, for starters, MG has a snowball’s chance in hell with Lizzie. It’s never going to happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Really? I don’t know?” Penelope throws the question back at Hope with a quirk of her brow and know-it-all smirk. 

“God, I hate you.” Hope retaliates with a playful elbow to Penelope’s ribs. 

“Nice try, Mikaelson. But no you don’t,” Penelope elbows her back in the same exact spot causing both of them to laugh in unison.

And as they do, Penelope is hit with yet another wave of deja vu. It’s subtler than the last few episodes, but the underlying feeling is all the same nonetheless. As if for a brief moment the world is back to where it was… or where it could be six years from now depending on how certain events unfold.

Hope had been right after all.

That regardless of the situation nor timeline, Hope underneath it all is still her Hope. The same exact one that she spent countless hours playfully bickering with over trivial matters. The one that would be there no matter what. Through thick and thin. 

Her Hope.

Penelope’s laughter transforms into a distinct chuckle of realization as the irony of Hope’s name hits her dead on.

“What now, Park?” Hope asks, picking up on the change in Penelope’s laughter. 

“Nothing,” Penelope pushes herself back up into a sitting position on the bed and gives a small shake of her head. “It’s stupid.”

“More stupid than me practically begging Lizzie Saltman to come along for an impromptu road trip to my aunts’ house?” 

“Practically? Oh no… You flat out begged her. In front of everyone too. Thank god MG is absolutely clueless when it comes to picking up on stuff like that.” 

Hope bites down on her lip and closes her eyes as another noticeable wave of embarrassment washes over her. “It was that obvious, huh?”

Penelope shrugs. “Not any more than you usually are when you’re around Lizzie.” 

Hope grabs a nearby throw pillow and smacks Penelope with it.

“Hey!” 

“You’re supposed to reassure me and tell me I wasn’t obvious at all.”

“Okay. You weren’t obvious at all,” Penelope responds in a fake, monotone voice. “Better?”

“Ass.”

Penelope lets out a laugh once again. “Mikaelson, you’ve got nothing to stress about. Didn’t you hear what Lizzie said? The fortune-teller told her that her soulmate likes raw meat, wears a leather jacket, and has amber-colored eyes. She literally was describing you.”

“But I don’t have amber eyes…” Hope trails off as she already knows what Penelope’s reply is going to be.

“Not yet, Furball,” Penelope says with another, even cockier smirk.

“Again, so freakin’ weird.” Hope lets out a light groan. “Do I even want to know why my eyes are amber?”

Penelope shakes her head. “Nope.” 

“Good. Then I’m just going to try and bury that piece of info--”

BEEP.

BEEP.

BEEP.

Hope is suddenly cut off mid-sentence by a painfully loud beeping sound. It overtakes the room, drowning out all other ambient noises.

“Shit.” Penelope springs up to her feet and rolls up the sleeve to her shirt to reveal a blinking red bracelet. Her eyes grow wide with fear as she stares down at it. 

“What the hell is that?” Hope asks in complete and utter confusion.

“Someone’s broken into my room,” Penelope replies and then before Hope can even react, she wrenches the door open and takes off at a breakneck speed down the hallway. 

**__________**

It usually takes Penelope at least a good ten minutes to cover the distance between Hope’s dorm room and her own. Seven if she opts to take the shortcut through the younger students’ dorm corridor. 

But this time, Penelope does it in under five.

Five minutes and change since when the alarm first sounded and yet…

It doesn’t matter.

The damage is already done.

Penelope slowly pushes open her dorm room door to discover that her room as been completely and utterly ransacked. A mixture of books, papers, and clothes are haphazardly strewn about like a layer of abnormal confetti, blanketing every inch of floor and overturned furniture. Nothing-- absolutely nothing-- has been left untouched.

Penelope stares blankly at the chaos before her unable to yet fully process the extent of the destruction. 

Who?

How?

Why?

Those three questions cycle through Penelope’s mind on an endless loop, each one flashing in big bold letters each and every time they appear. 

She had been so careful…

Or had she?

If Caroline or Hope were here, they would’ve begged to differ, lecturing her on the thousands of ways she could’ve been more attentive to her surroundings. More guarded. More… Just more of everything. 

But they weren’t. 

She was left to complete this mission alone and without any reasonable amount of time to do so either. 

So she’s done the best that she could…

Or has she?

A sudden tsunami of self-doubt and paranoia crashes down upon Penelope, all but knocking the air right out of her lungs. She grips the door frame in order to remain upright as her eyes continue to scan over what remains of her room. 

“Pen, why the hell did you… Holy shit!” Hope exclaims as she joins Penelope in the doorway and gets her first good look at the destruction. “What happened to your room?”

“I don’t know,” Penelope replies still wading her way through the initial shock of it all. 

She blinks once. And then again. But nothing changes. 

It’s real.

Hope gently pushes past Penelope and then carefully enter the room. Penelope follows suit, making sure to shut the door behind her as she does. 

“I don’t get it,” Hope says as she does a slow 360, trying to take in every last detail. “Who would do this?”

“I don’t know,” Penelope repeats her words and runs her hands through her hair, desperate at the moment for any sort of comfort whatsoever.

“How did you even know someone was in your room in the first place?”

Penelope rolls up her sleeve, revealing the thin golden bracelet dangling from her wrist and then extends her arm towards Hope so that the Tribrid can get a better look. “It’s a warning charm. I placed it in my room in case… in case something like this were to happen. That was the beeping sound you heard. The bracelet is set to go off as soon as the boundaries are broken.” 

“Boundaries?” Hope asks as she examines the bracelet.

Penelope nods. “Yeah. For example, It won’t go off if someone just happens to enter my room. But if they attempt to do anything out of the ordinary, like cast a spell or--”

“Or trash it?” 

“Or trash it,” Penelope mimics Hope’s phrase, trying to swallow down the raw lump of emotions building up in the back of her throat. “Yes, then the bracelet will instantly go off.”

“That’s genius. Did you come up with this?”

“No… You did.” Penelope slowly starts to move around the room as well, careful not to cause even further damage to any of her belongings. Her mind races a mile a minute, flipping through the endless possibilities of who-- or what-- could be behind such a calculated attack. 

This isn’t the first time she’s experienced this kind of out of the blue sort of ransacking. No. During that first year out in the real world when Hope and she had started ruffling some real feathers amongst the magical creature community, it had been a regular occurrence. So much so, that Penelope had learned over time to stash her most valuable possessions in a secret compartment within her room rather than keeping them out where anyone could find and destroy them. 

In fact, it’s why Hope created the bracelet system in the first place. 

One too many break-ins.

One too many irreplaceable items lost.

“I still don’t get it,” Hope says as she picks up a half-torn notebook and looks it over. “Why would someone do this? No one, besides me knows the truth, right?”

Penelope shakes her head. Her mind picks up speed, trying to fit the seemingly odd pieces of the puzzle before her together. 

“And you’re sure that no one else came back with you? Like some random demon stowaway?”

“No. I’m positive,” Penelope replies. Her fingers absentmindedly move upwards towards her neck and trace over the scar that’s no longer there. “The spell was quite clear. One being per talisman.”

“Okay…” Hope trails off as she furrows her brow, deep in thought. “What about items? Did you bring anything back that would be of value to someone else? Like a relic or journal?”

Penelope shakes her head again. “Too risky. The only thing I took with me was… Fuck.”

The yellow sweater.

Josie’s yellow sweater.

The one that bears an extensive collection of rips and faded stains from her six years’ worth of fighting to survive. 

Penelope bolts across the room towards her overturned bed. She shoves it aside, drops her hands and knees, and then starts to carefully run her fingers along the cracks in the wooden floor.   

“Park?” Hope asks, watching Penelope with confusion.

“No… No… No…” Penelope’s fingers catch on a seemingly inconspicuous hole and then pries open a loose floorboard to reveal a hidden compartment. But the yellow sweater-- Josie’s sweater-- is nowhere to be found. 

“SHIT!” Penelope yells. She falls back onto her knees and stares at the empty space in dreaded disbelief. 

“Pen, what’s wrong?”  

“It’s gone. Fuck! It can’t be gone!” Penelope’s fingers rub harder against the smooth flesh of her neck, desperate for even the tiniest of hints that there was once an actual scar there. 

No. 

No. 

No.

The sweater can’t be gone. 

It’s her constant. Her singular anchor to a world and a life that no longer exists. 

It can’t be gone. 

“Penelope!” The harsh tone of Hope’s voice snaps Penelope straight out of her thoughts and back into the moment. She freezes mid-stroke of her skin as her eyes slowly wander upwards to meet Hope’s. “Talk to me.”

Penelope goes to open her mouth, but her words fail her. She swallows again as the hot sting of fresh tears burns their way down her cheeks. 

It can’t be gone. 

“Pen?” Hope moves closer to the raven-haired girl and without a moment’s hesitation, gently hooks her arm under Penelope’s and helps her to her feet. “What’s wrong?” 

“Everything.” The word effortlessly tumbles out of Penelope through the steady streams causing Hope to instantaneously wrap her up into a reassuring hug. And Penelope melts. She lets the tears flow, not making any effort whatsoever to stop them. There’s no point. 

Not anymore.

“Let’s start with the basics,” Hope pulls back out of the hug and locks eyes once again with Penelope. Penelope nods and sniffles back the tears. “Good. What was hidden in there?”

“A sweater.”

“Okay…” Hope says trying to follow along. “And safe to assume it held some sort of importance?”

“It was Josie’s yellow sweater.”

Hope’s eyes grow wide with sudden understanding. “Oh…”

“Yeah,” Penelope exhales. “I took it with me when I left Salvatore the last go around. And--” 

“And you brought it back with you?”

“Yup.” 

“Why?”

“Because I’m a fucking idiot, that’s why. And now it’s gone… which means it’s in the hands of someone who will quickly figure out that it’s not from this timeline and then… and then…” Penelope trails off getting lost in her own thoughts. Once again her hands shoot back up towards her neck. 

Hope studies Penelope for a moment or two, watching the seemingly benign motion with a peaked curiosity, then--

“What’s wrong with your neck?”

“Huh?” Penelope stops, suddenly thrown off-guard. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Hope…”

“No. You’re lying and we both know it. You’ve been compulsively touching the same spot on your neck for the last three days now. Every single time whenever you’re stressed or anxious about something related to Josie. It’s clearly a coping mechanism or tick of some sort, which leads me to believe that something bad happened… Or is going to happen… Or… I don’t fucking know. But whatever it is, it involves Josie in some way. So, just spit it out already and we’ll deal with it. Whatever it is. We’ll figure it out.”

“No, we won’t,” Penelope fires back as the second wave of tears starts to build back up within her eyes. 

“You don’t know that.”

Penelope lets out a harsh laugh and runs her hands through her hair. “Jesus, Hope. For the thousandth time already. Yes, I do.”

“Tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Pen, I can handle it. Just tell me.”

Penelope swallows down the monstrous lump of emotions residing in the back of her throat and then takes a moment to blink away her tears. Then, she locks eyes with Hope and releases a breath of air that up until this very moment, she didn’t realize she was holding on to. 

“She kills Lizzie.”

And with those words, time suddenly comes to a crashing halt. Hope stares blankly at Penelope as her eyes seem to cycle through a mixture of varying emotions at a rapid-fire pace. Confusion. Grief. Anger. Fear. Each one hitting Penelope dead on with an all too familiar gut-churning sensation. She’s seen each and every last one of those emotions before and knows all too well what could potentially come next once the real gravity of her words has had the time to fully sink in.

“What?” Hope asks finally breaking the silence.

“Josie kills Lizzie.”

“During the merge?”

“No. She kills her long before that.” Penelope shakes her head as she desperately fights to hold back her tears. 

“Why?”

“Because Josie-- future Josie-- is the most feared and sadistic magical entity in all of existence.” 

This is the part that she’s been dreading the most. 

Ever since returning.

The part where inevitably Penelope must rip off the proverbial band-aid and reveal the cold, harsh truth of the potential events to come. 

“Josie? I… I don’t… I don’t understand.”

Penelope exhales a shaky breath of air and then takes a seat on the nearby desk chair. She needs to sit down for this. There’s no other way to get through it. 

“It starts with the attack at the school. The one that’s about to happen. I wasn’t here for it the first go around, but from your recounts of it, Josie gets gravely injured with a bullet tainted with the goo from Malivore. You’re able to save her with your blood and everything seems to go back to normal, until roughly six months later when Josie starts to dive deep into the realms of dark magic. That’s why you originally hunt down Caroline and I in Paris.” Penelope pauses for a moment as Hope slowly slumped down against the overturned dresser. She doesn’t need an explanation to know what’s transpiring within the Tribrid’s mind. The look on her face says it all. Hope’s too lost within her own thoughts for words. 

“Unfortunately, though, we don’t realize just how far gone Josie is until it’s too late.”

“Lizzie?”

Penelope nods. “Yeah. That was the tipping point. Josie got wind that she had located one of the relics needed to complete the counter curse for the merge, tracked her down, destroy the relic and then murdered her in cold blood.” 

“Were we… Were we there?” Hope’s voice quivers as she utters the question out loud.

“No. We didn’t keep in regular contact with everyone else, except for the occasional update phone calls from Alaric or your aunt Freya. It was easier that way. It allowed us to do what we needed to do without running the risk of being tracked down… We didn’t even know that Liz knew about the counter curse, let alone was hunting down the relics needed until afterward… If we would’ve known, we would’ve…” Penelope trails off yet again as her finger dance along the smooth skin of her neck. 

“It’s Josie, isn’t it? The reason behind why you keep touching your neck like that? She did something to you.”

Penelope tries to nod again but finds even that simple of tasks to be too much at the moment as the floodgates release and the raw memories associated with her scar crash down upon her. “When we found out the real truth behind Liz’s death, you decided to take Josie on yourself. Caroline and I tried to stop you, but of course, you wouldn’t listen. You never do… By the time I managed to catch up with you, it was almost too late. She was seconds away from killing you as well, so I did the one thing I could think of doing… I intervened and took Josie head-on with everything I had.”

“You fought Josie?”

“Yeah. I did. And it… It wasn’t pretty. I could’ve done better but, like always, I let my emotions get in the way and she managed to get the upper hand.” Penelope swallows as her skin ignites with phantom pains from the memory of it all. “She slit my throat with a knife and then up and disappeared. I would’ve died right then and there if it hadn’t been for you. You were able to reverse time on the knife thanks in part to a spell that Caroline had taught us so I didn’t completely bleed out, but it did leave me with… With a scar.”

Penelope holds her breath as she waits for the enviable follow-up questions, but instead is met with only silence. She closes her eyes as her tears pick back up, freely carving out two new paths down the lengths of her cheeks. 

It’s not like it’s the first time she’s had to recount the events of that infamous night. No. She has done it at least twice before. Once, for Caroline the morning after and then a few weeks later for both Alaric and Freya during a rare, in-person visit. 

In both of those instances, though, the damage had already been done. And Penelope had had the lovely six-inch souvenir that stretched across the width of her neck as a constant reminder of it. 

But now…

Now it’s different. 

Now there’s no scar. 

Just the lingering memory of something that could potentially come to fruition once again. 

And it’s nothing short of terrifying.

Suddenly, Penelope feels a foreign set of fingertips gentle graze her neck, tracing along the invisible line. She opens her eyes to find Hope’s warm blue eyes staring back at her, radiating a much-needed reassurance. 

“C’mon,” Hope says as she offers Penelope her hand and pulls Penelope up onto her feet. Penelope wipes her tears away and then looks at Hope in slight confusion. 

“Where are we going?” Penelope asks.

“Not sure exactly.” Hope shrugs and gives her best attempt at a smile. “But we’ve got a sweater to find.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (almost) Thanksgiving!
> 
> This chapter was a doozy but hopefully, it answers some of the major questions you have been asking.
> 
> As always, let me know what you think down below and enjoy!


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penelope stares at the sweater as her mind races for something-- anything-- to say. 
> 
> “Penelope?” Josie asks again and the underlying quiver to her voice slices through Penelope like a white-hot knife. 
> 
> Penelope closes her eyes and then swallows back down the rising lump of emotions in the back of her throat. “It’s yours.”   
> \------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> Penelope discovers who stole the sweater.

 

_ “But nothing is better, sometimes _

_ Once we've both said our goodbyes _

_ Let's just let it go _

_ Let me let you go _

 

_ Quiet when I'm coming home and I'm on my own _

_ I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that _

_ I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that” _

_ \-- When the Party’s Over, Billie Eilish _

**__________**

“Okay, so it’s definitely not Kaleb,” Hope says with a strong exhale of air as she sits down next to Penelope on the main hall staircase a short while later. 

Penelope stops twirling the paperback copy of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and looks over at Hope. “You sure?” 

“1000%. I had to spend a good thirty minutes explaining what a cardigan even was to him… Any luck with Pedro?”

“Nope. The boy hasn’t heard anything. Promised to keep his eyes and ears peeled, though, just in case.”

“And you trust he won’t mention that we’re looking for it?” Hope asks with a quirk of her brow.

“Yup. His lips are sealed. Bribed him with half a dozen comic books and fifty bucks,” Penelope offers up. 

“Comic books?” 

“MG. Told him I needed them as collateral.” Penelope pauses for a moment to run her hands through her messy locks and tucks a few loose strands behind her ears. “Promised I’d replace them as soon as I could. Just add that to things I need to do if we survive the next few days.”

“Have you ever even stepped foot in a comic book store?”

“What’d you think?” Penelope replies.

“I think MG might as well kiss those comics goodbye,” Hope says with a light laugh. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Furball.” Penelope starts to twirl the book once again, channeling all of her pent up anxiety and nerves into the mundane action. “Also talked with Raf, Jed, Emma, and that pack of freshman witches that like to follow me around. Nothing from any of them.”

“Who’s left?” Hope asks in earnest which only causes Penelope to answer with a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ look. “What?”

“I’ll give you two guesses.”

“Fuck.” Hopes slumps down further onto the steps as the realization hits her dead on. “You don’t think…”

“No clue… I mean it’s possible. But it’s also possible that a 6th-century possessed gargoyle did it as well. So who knows?”

“Not possible.”

“Huh?”

“The gargoyle. It’s not possible. They can be enchanted but can’t outright perform magic on their own. So it’s not a gargoyle.”

Penelope gives a hard roll of her eyes. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“You’re the one that brought up a gargoyle, not me.”

“I was being facetious, Hope,” Penelope fires back with a slightly heightened level of annoyance. Hope senses the tension radiating off of Penelope and without another word, wraps her arm around the raven-haired girl. 

“Hey. I told you already. We’ll find the sweater, okay?” 

“What if it’s Josie?” The question hanging in the air between them for a moment or two, neither one quite ready to fully embrace that reality. 

“Or it could be Lizzie,” Hope says back with a shrug. “It’s a fifty fifty, right?” 

“Liz I can deal with, but Josie…” Penelope trails off as her fingers drift upwards towards her neck. 

“Then we’ll divide and conquer. You take Lizzie and I’ll take Josie.” Hope glances down at her watch. “It’s almost 8 pm now. Best place to start is their dorm room. I can head there now while you check the kitchen.”

“The kitchen?” 

A noticeable blush spreads across Hope’s cheeks.  “Lizzie usually likes to grab a bag of those kettle chips that Alaric stocks in the pantry before heading up to bed.”

The tension slightly dissipates from Penelope as she can’t help but laugh. “Stalker much?”

“Not a stalker,” Hope says, regaining her composure. “I’ve just run into her while grabbing a late-night snack for myself once or twice before. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Penelope hums unconvincingly.

Now it’s Hope’s turn to roll her eyes. She unwraps herself from Penelope, giving her a hard but playful shove in the shoulder as she does and then rises to her feet. “God, are you always this annoying?” 

Penelope doesn’t respond. Instead, she rises up as well and flashes Hope one of her trademark smirks. “Meet back here in thirty?”

“Thirty it is,” Hope starts to head up the staircase, but suddenly stops halfway. “And don’t go and do anything stupid, Park. Cause I’m not quite in the mood to save your ass tonight.” 

“I make no promises, Mikaelson.”

**__________**

Penelope aimlessly wanders down the desolate hallway lost within her own sea of thoughts. 

There had been no signs of Lizzie-- no anyone else for the matter-- in kitchen. Nor the dining hall. Or even the secret teachers’ pantry that no one is supposed to know about. 

Not a soul to be found anywhere.

But that’s what’s to be expected late on a Sunday evening at the Salvatore School. A dead quiet campus. Students tucked away within their dorms, either already fast asleep or in the process of going to bed. 

Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.

And that’s what makes Penelope’s skin crawl.

It’s too normal.

Like an eerie stillness before a storm.

“Hello, Satan,” Lizzie’s voice cuts through the silence sending an instant set of chills running down Penelope’s spine. She stops dead in her tracks and slowly turns around to find Lizzie standing at the other end of the hallway. The blonde-haired siphoner locks eyes with Penelope as her face contorts into a sick smirk of satisfaction.

And then, Penelope sees it.  

The yellow sweater.

Josie’s yellow sweater. 

It dangles limp and lifeless from Lizzie’s hand, almost irreconcilable in the darken, moonlit shadows except for its Salvatore School patch partway peeling off of the threadbare fabric.  

“Missing something?” Lizzie asks raising the sweater ever so slightly as she does. A wave of gut-churning fear crashes down upon Penelope, causing her legs to wobble. She swallows dryly and desperately tries to hold onto her emotionless composure as Lizzie slowly makes her way closer.

“Liz, I can--” 

“Explain?” Lizzie cuts Penelope off, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, I’m dying to hear it. Especially the part where you explain exactly how you wound up in possession of what looks to be my sister’s sweater when I know for a fact that it’s in our dorm room right now on the back of Josie’s desk chair.”

“It’s not her sweater.” The lie flows freely from Penelope’s lips without hesitation and yet she knows right away that it isn’t enough to convince Lizzie. 

“Nice try,” Lizzie replies. “Actually, I take that back. It’s a horrible try. Do you think I’m an idiot? Her name is written right here on the tag.”

Lizzie flips the sweater over and holds up the tag for Penelope to see, but it’s not needed. Penelope has long since burned those five black scrawled out letters into her memory. 

“So we’re going to try this one more time. What are you doing with my sister’s sweater?”

“Liz, it’s not what you think.”

“Ha!” Liz takes another step forward, causing Penelope to counter with her own step backward. “There. You did it again. You called me Liz. Talk about waving a gigantic red flag. I knew something was off from the very first moment you called me Liz. But no… Everyone said I was overreacting and being paranoid. That there was nothing unusual about it.” 

“You know you’re monologuing, right?” Penelope says trying to defuse the growingly dangerous situation. She knows she’s once again playing with fire, but sarcastic remarks have always been her fallback. The last resort of sorts for whenever things aren’t looking so hot.

“Shut up!” Lizzie shouts with a burst of anger. Penelope takes yet another step backward in caution, eyes never leaving Lizzie. 

Not even for the slightest of milliseconds. 

Josie might’ve almost killed her, but Lizzie…

Lizzie is the real Saltzman twin to watch out for. 

Although Penelope never had the opportunity to witness her in action firsthand, the tales were more than enough to paint a picture of what the fair-haired Saltzman could potentially do if provoked. 

“Please…” Penelope pauses for a moment as her eyes brief dart away from Lizzie and towards the sweater. “Just give me the sweater and I promise I’ll explain everything.” 

“Yeah. Don’t think so, Park.” Lizzie inches closer and Penelope notices how her hand clenches even harder around the yellow fabric, almost to the point of disintegration. It’s another telltale warning. One that Penelope can’t help but fixate on.

Can Lizzie siphon from the sweater?  

No.

Not possible. 

It’s just a sweater. 

There isn’t an ounce of magical energy within it and yet…

The question still lingers with Penelope. Ever present and nagging.

“Who are you?” The single question comes out as a growl and Penelope grits her teeth as another, more powerful set of chills run rampant throughout the length of her body.  

“I’m Penelope.”

“Eh’nt! Wrong answer.”

“I am. I swear.”

“You want to know how I know you’re lying?” Lizzie responds, eyeing narrowing down with laser-like focus. “The sweater told me so.” 

“What?”

“Did I stutter? The sweater.”

Penelope shakes her head trying desperately to follow along. “But how? I don’t…”

“Oh wow… I think this is a first. Finally, there’s something that the all-power Penelope Park doesn’t know,” Lizzie replies. “I used an aetate charm mixed in with a super dose of whatever magic I siphoned from your room, which by the way, was off the charts. I haven’t had a rush like that since I accidentally siphoned off of my great aunt Gladys during Thanksgiving dinner. She was a notoriously powerful witch in our coven and let’s just say after siphoning from her I was able to levitate my dad’s Land Rover for like a month.” 

Lizzie pauses for a moment, getting lost within the memory and Penelope takes the opportunity to quickly glance behind her at the library doorway. 

Only 20 feet away.

She could make a run for it and maybe track down Hope… 

Or MG… 

Or anyone else that could help her defuse Lizzie. 

“Don’t you even dare think about it,” Lizzie says and Penelope whips her attention back around to the blonde-haired siphoner. “Now where was I? Oh right… The sweater. The funniest thing happened when I used the aetate charm. It revealed that this sweater was somehow ten years old. Which is impossible because I know for a fact that my sister bought this sweater only four years ago. So which brings me back to my question… Who are you and what is this?”

“I told you already… I’m Penelope Park. And that is Josie’s sweater.” Penelope holds her breath upon these words, as an unsettling silence falls between the two of them. She studies the icy blue eyes staring back at her and suddenly wishes that she had paid more attention to all of those times that Caroline had tried to teach her the art of mind compulsion. 

“Gelida.”

The curse hits Penelope before she has time to even process the word that Lizzie has just uttered. Every muscle in her body instantly locks, frozen by an invisible force. Penelope can’t move an inch, let alone even blink. 

All she can do is breathe.

Lizzie inches forward as a look of puzzlement crossed over her face. “Okay. Now I know for sure you aren’t Penelope. The real Penelope would’ve seen that coming from a mile away. Hell, even Pedro would’ve.” 

Penelope rages against the curse with every ounce of strength she has in her, beyond desperate to respond. But the curse wins out. She’s paralyzed. 

“If you won’t tell me the truth, then let's see what you have to say to Josie and my dad,” Lizzie says. She gives Penelope one last look before turning on her heels and taking off down the hallway.

And all Penelope can do is watch in frozen silence, as wave after wave of the dreaded impending doom slowly drowns her.

**__________**

“Pen?” 

Penelope’s eyes pop open at the distinct sound of Josie’s voice. It's been well over an hour since Lizzie left her and all that she’s managed to regain control over so far is her eyelids and her left pinky finger. 

“Penelope?” The voice grows closer and Penelope once again fights against the invisible force that is holding her hostage within her own body. She screams out internally, desperate to answer, but no sound emerges. 

“Pen? Where are-- Oh my god! Pen?!” Josie rounds the corner of the hallway and finally comes into view. Penelope’s eyes light up and she blinks rapidly. It isn’t much, but it’s enough for Josie to instantly understand.

Josie places her hand on the nearby wall. “Regelo!”

Penelope collapses against the hardwood floor with a thud. She slowly rolls over onto her side as a long groan escapes her lips. Everything hurts. 

“Pen! Are you alright?” Josie rushes over and crouches down next to the raven-haired girl. Penelope nods as she takes a moment to recompose herself.

“Yeah. I’m okay,” Penelope replies. She pushes herself up into a sitting position and cracks her neck. “Just insanely sore.” 

“What happened? Who did this to you?” 

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Pen…” 

“It doesn’t.” Penelope shakes her head. “How’d you know where to find me?”

“Lizzie. She burst into our room ranting and raving that you weren’t the real you but some sort of demon and that she had trapped you in the downstairs hallway. I sorta ran out on her after that, but she threw this at me as I was leaving.” Josie pauses for a moment and pulls out the yellow sweater from the pocket of her sweatshirt. “She said she found it in your room? It looks like my sweater, but… but it can’t be. This one’s all torn up and destroyed… Pen, what is this?”

Penelope stares at the sweater as her mind races for something-- anything-- to say. 

“Penelope?” Josie asks again and the underlying quiver to her voice slices through Penelope like a white-hot knife. 

Penelope closes her eyes and then swallows back down the rising lump of emotions in the back of her throat. “It’s yours.” 

“What?”

“It’s your sweater.” 

“But… I don’t… How?” 

“Because it is.” 

It’s not an answer. 

It’s a deflection.

And a vague one a best.

Josie deserves more. An actual explanation as to why the sweater exists and its origins. 

But revealing the truth-- even the vaguest of tidbits-- is nothing short of opening Pandora’s box. 

A risk that Penelope isn’t willing to take. Especially not when she knows the potential horrors that can come from it. 

“You promised you wouldn’t lie to me,” Josie says and Penelope feels the emotional blade cut even deeper. 

“I know.”

“Then tell me the truth.”

“I can’t…” Penelope replies in nothing more than a whisper and as soon as the words leave her lips, she knows that they are the final two nails in the coffin. 

But there’s no other choice.

Josie’s chocolate brown eyes burn into Penelope’s skin as the silence of the desolate hallway once again all but engulf them. And all Penelope can do is focus on the yellow sweater on the ground before her. 

Her once most beloved possession now turned Achilles heel.

“Then we’re done.” 

The words hang heavy in the air, reverberating in the space around Penelope. She shuts her eyes in an effort to hold back the forthcoming tears and gives the tiniest of nods in understanding.

Footsteps soon follow, growing fainter and fainter until finally disappearing altogether back into the darkness. 

Penelope doesn’t need to open her eyes to confirm what her heart already knows. Josie is gone. 

And this time, it’s for good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit on the shorter side this time around but hopefully it's enjoyable nonetheless.
> 
> Comment away below. Always love hearing your thoughts and feedback! 
> 
> Enjoy!


	13. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even if she did choose to open a vein and let every last detail-- even the most horrendous ones-- pour out of her and onto the page, would Josie actually take the time to read it? And more importantly… Would she even believe it?
> 
> “Okay… What’s the hesitation now?”
> 
> “No. I just--”
> 
> “Just what? Got a better plan?”
> 
> Penelope shakes her head with a sigh of defeat. “No, I don’t.”
> 
> Hope grabs a nearby pen off of the floor and then plops herself back down next to Penelope on the mattress.
> 
> “Here.” 
> 
> “Now?”
> 
> Hope shrugs. “Why not? You said it yourself… Time is of the essence.”  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> Penelope gets picked back up off of the ground and reminded that hope isn't lost after all.

_ “My lover's got humour _

_ She's the giggle at a funeral _

_ Knows everybody's disapproval _

_ I should've worshipped her sooner _

 

_ If the heavens ever did speak _

_ She's the last true mouthpiece _

_ Every Sunday's getting more bleak _

_ A fresh poison each week” _

_ \-- Take Me to Church, Hozier _

**__________**

“Pen…? Pen? Are you in…” Hope trails off as she opens the door to Penelope’s dorm room and spots Penelope. The raven-haired girl lays on her barren mattress amongst the wreckage of her room passed out with a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels lying nearby. Under her head is the tattered yellow sweater, balled up into a make-shift pillow.

Hope lets out a sigh and in three long strides makes her way across the debris towards the mattress.

“Penelope Park,” Hope says as she reaches down and gives Penelope a firm shake on the shoulders. 

“Go away,” Penelope mumbles. She rolls away from Hope to face the wall and readjusts her grip on the sweater.

“What happened?”

“I fucked up.”

“Yeah. We’ve already been over that part.” Hope takes a seat down on the mattress. Her fingers trace over the frayed edges of the yellow sweater making a mental note of it. “Taking it that you found Lizzie?”

“She found me,” Penelope responds with a weighted sigh.

“And she had the sweater?”

“Oh… She had the sweater alright. She not only had it, but she also confronted me with it and then went and showed it to Josie.”

“Shit.”

“Yup,” Penelope says. She buries her head even further into the confines of the sweater, desperate to derive whatever traces of comfort she can from the now tainted object. 

“And how did Josie react?”

“How do you think she reacted?” Penelope cringes as soon as the sarcastic remark leaves her mouth. Hope is the last person on the face of the earth she means to lash out at but at the moment it’s all she can manage to do to combat the impending tidal wave of hopelessness from crashing down upon her. 

A silence settles between the two of them for a moment or two as Hope lies down next to Penelope on the mattress and stares up at the ceiling, deep in thought. Then--

“Okay… So what do we do next?”

Penelope rolls back over to face Hope unable to hide her sheer shock at the question. “What’d you mean next? There is no next. It’s over. Josie doesn’t want to be within fifty feet of me, let alone go on some impromptu road trip to New Orleans. And there’s no time. The attack is gonna happen in less than 36 hours from now… There’s nothing else to be done. I’ve failed. History is going to repeat itself.”

“Bullshit.”

“What?”

“I’m calling bullshit on your ‘there’s nothing else to be done’ Park.”

“It’s the truth,” Penelope huffs out in exasperation. 

“No, it’s you giving up,” Hope fires back without missing a beat. “And I’m not accepting it… Not this time. So I’m gonna ask you again… What’s our next move?” 

“I dunno.” Penelope exhales and joins Hope in staring up at the ceiling. She snakes her hands behind her head and as she does, her fingers catch on something sharp buried deep within the fabric. Curious, Penelope sits up and starts to rummage through the balled-up sweater.  

“What’s up?” Hope asks, picking up on Penelope’s behavior. 

“I think I felt--” Penelope trails off as she produces a folded up piece of paper from one of the pockets.

“A note? Who’s it from?” Hope sits up as well and leans over Penelope’s shoulder with sudden interest.

“Not sure.” Penelope carefully unfolds the paper and reveals a handwritten message. 

**_Dear Park,_ **

**_I know you don’t need to be reminded of this, but just in case, remember that when all else fails, there’s always the truth._ **

**_Love,_ **

**_Mikaelson_ **

Penelope stares at the note, silently re-reading the message to herself as her fingers trace over each and every word. 

Of course, only Hope-- Penelope’s Hope-- would find a way to reach her regardless of the circumstances. And just when she needs it the most too.  

“I give good advice,” Hope says bringing an instant smile to Penelope’s face. 

“Yeah…” Penelope folds back up the note. “You do.” 

“And I’m right, you know. About the truth. It’s always an option.”

“But--”

“But nothing, Park. What’s the worst that could happen by telling Josie the truth… The full truth? You said it yourself. That timeline doesn’t’ exist anymore. Or at least not fully. So what’s the harm in filling Josie in on everything?”

Penelope sinks her teeth into her bottom lip as she mulls over the mere idea of laying every last detail of the past six years out on the table for Josie. 

It’s not that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind before. No. It was a common conversation topic between herself and Caroline whenever they would go down the rabbit hole of possible options beyond reversing the curse itself. But the truth-- the unabridged truth-- came with infinite risks. Some worse than others, but all risks nonetheless. And most, having something to do with Josie’s mental state. 

“There are risks with revealing that kind of level of personal knowledge-- even if it’s hypothetical-- on someone,” Penelope replies and Hope gives a defiant smirk in return.  

“You think Josie can’t handle the truth?” 

Penelope shrugs. “Possibly. Or… It could taint any future decisions that she will make… Or slowly drive her into insanity.” 

“Or… It could be a way to get through to her?”  

“Or it could be the way to get through to her,” Penelope mimicks Hope’s words with another sigh and a slight eye roll. She knows that the Tribrid could be right, but still-- 

Penelope’s fingers start to move towards her neck, but before she can make contact with the smooth skin, Hope grabs hold of her hand and stops her. 

“Nope. Not happening. Not on my watch,” Hope says pushing Penelope’s hand back down. 

“What?”

“We’re breaking you of that habit.”

“Hope, I--”

“No, Penelope. No more nervous tic… It’s not going to happen again, okay?” 

“You don’t know that…” Penelope swallows down the dry lump of emotions bubbling up within the back of her throat. 

“You’re right. I don’t,” Hope responds. She then leans into Penelope’s shoulder giving her a loving nudge. “But now that I know, I’m sure as hell gonna do everything in my power to prevent it from happening again.”

“Nice motivational speech, Furball.” Penelope nudges Hope back and the two exchange a smile.

“Eh… I try.” Hope then rises to her feet and starts to rummage around the nearby debris. 

“What are you looking for?” Penelope asks.

“This.” Hope surfaces with an old leather-bound journal. She tosses it down in front of Penelope onto the mattress.

“A partially used journal?” Penelope replies with a quirk of her brow. 

“No, Smartass. Watch.” Hope mutters an indecipherable phrase under her breath and points her fingers at the journal. It ignites in a brief warm amber glow before returning to its original state. “Now it’s a blank journal. And roughly from the size of it, it looks like it could hold six years worth of memories.”

“I can’t write out six years’ worth of memories… Do you know how long that would take?” 

“Not if you use a ditatum charm.” 

Penelope mulls over Hope’s response for a moment or two. 

Hope’s right. All Penelope would have to use is a ditatum charm on a pen coupled with a memoro spell on herself and she could have every last page of that journal filled out within the next four to five hours. 

But, still…

Even if she did choose to open a vein and let every last detail-- even the most horrendous ones-- pour out of her and onto the page, would  Josie actually take the time to read it? And more importantly… Would she even believe it?

“Okay… What’s the hesitation now?”

“No. I just--”

“Just what? Got a better plan?”

Penelope shakes her head with a sigh of defeat. “No, I don’t.”

Hope grabs a nearby pen off of the floor and then plops herself back down next to Penelope on the mattress. “Here.” 

“Now?”

Hope shrugs. “Why not? You said it yourself… Time is of the essence.”

Penelope takes the pen from Hope as a hint of a smile emerges upon her lips. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Hope replies matching Penelope smile with a smirk of her own. “And besides, how else am I gonna find out what on earth compelled me to get my nipples pierced.”

“Oh…  It’s a great story,” Penelope laughs.

“Good. Then get going, Park.” Hope gives a nod towards the journal for extra measure. “Cause I’m dying to read it.” 

**__________**

It had been five hours, thirty-eight minutes, and fifteen seconds since Penelope had first put pen to paper and began the arduous task of recounting the last six years worth of memories that had led her to this very moment in time. 

And, true to her word, Hope had stayed by her side through every single second of it. At first, wide awake and then somewhere in between the third and fourth hour passed out to the world on the other end of the mattress. 

At first, it had been painful. Like the reopening of old, partially healed wounds. But as Penelope had found her rhythm, the words flowed easier and easier, until all that was left was a dull ache for a life that no longer existed.  

In some ways it was cathartic. Reliving the last six years, memory by memory. Replaying every decision… every conversation… every last moment of heartache and utter desperation. And in other ways, it served as a sobering reminder that Penelope was no stranger to having her back up against a wall. 

No. 

She had survived the impossible time and time again. Even when every last card was stacked against her.

Penelope had survived. 

And she would survive this as well… Regardless of the outcome. 

Penelope finishes off the last sentence with a flourish of the pen and then lets out a much-needed sigh. Her eyes wander over to Hope as a warm smile stretches across her face. 

Somewhere over the course of the last two hours, the older girl has managed to curl herself up into a tight ball, with her legs tucked into her chest and her auburn hair spayed over her like a protective blanket. She couldn’t mimic a sleeping wolf pup more if even she tried. 

“Such a furball,” Penelope says to herself with a shake of her head. She reaches back behind her, grabs hold of her comforter, and then gently places it over Hope, trying her best not to wake her up in the process. And as she does, she can’t help but think back to one of her last conversations with the other version of Hope, back on the rooftop of their apartment. 

It’s still me.

One simple truth, that at the time, had felt like a bit of lip service. Something that Hope only said in order to ensure that Penelope went along with the game plan. 

But now…

Now, looking at Hope fast asleep beside her, Penelope realizes that those words were anything but lip service. 

They were yet another nugget of wisdom planted by the Tribrid in hopes that Penelope would be able to recall at just the right moment of need.  

Deep down inside, Hope is still Hope. Regardless of the timeline nor knowledge of what could potentially happen next.

And if Hope is still Hope then Josie… 

“Is still Josie,” Penelope finishes her thoughts out loud, unable to hold the words back. She smiles again as a sudden wave of reassurance washes over her. 

Yes, there may be a sizable risk handing over six years’ worth of memories in a single journal, but then again, it’s Josie Saltzman… And Josie, more than anyone else that Penelope has ever met, thrives on knowledge. Actionable knowledge to be more precise. 

Penelope runs her hands through her short messy locks and then, with one last look down at Hope, scopes up the journal and heads out of her dorm room.

**__________**

“Go away, Satan,” Lizzie says before she has even fully opened her dorm room door. 

“Wait--” Penelope juts her hand out, stopping Lizzie from slamming the door in her face. “I just need a minute. I swear… Please, Liz.”

“Don’t call me that,” Lizzie growls. She pushes harder against the door only causing Penelope to match her effort with the same stubborn-fueled brute force. It’s a stalemate and neither one of them is planning on backing down anytime soon.

Penelope lets out a frustrated sigh and then locks eyes with Lizzie. “Look. I’m not calling you Liz cause I want to mess with you… Okay, maybe I was at first, but… It’s not like that. In my timeline, you go by Liz. Or at least used to.”

“Used to?” Lizzie quirks her brow in slight confusion. 

“Here.” Penelope hands over the journal to Lizzie. “It’s meant for Josie, but you should read it as well. It explains everything. The sweater… Why I’ve been acting so strange… Even why I call you Liz. It’s all in there. All six years worth.” 

“Six years?”

“Yeah. Six years,” Penelope replies never once taking her eyes off of Lizzie. 

“That means… You’re from the future?” Lizzie’s voice goes a little higher than usual on the last word as if it’s too far-fetched of a possibility to even say, let alone believe.

“Not exactly… More like a potential future… Or what could’ve been a potential future. It’s kinda hard to explain.” 

The look of utter confusion only deepens on Lizzie’s face. Penelope watches as her icy blue eyes ping-pong back and forth between the journal and Penelope, desperate for some sort of clarity. 

“I… I don’t…” Lizzie trails off as her eyes wander back down upon the journal. 

“I know,” Penelope replies with an understanding nod. “I don’t expect you to understand… At least not fully until you read that.” 

Lizzie continues to stare at the journal in her hands, not even acknowledging Penelope’s words and Penelope knows that she’s more than said enough. No further explanation is needed. On some level or another Lizzie gets it. 

And if Lizzie gets it…

Then Josie will too.

“Just promise me you’ll make sure that Josie reads it… Okay?” Lizzie gives a slight nod still fixated on the journal and Penelope lets out a much-needed sigh of relief. 

It isn’t quite as reassuring as handing the journal directly over to Josie herself. No. But it’s the next best thing. If anyone is going to make sure that Josie stops everything and reads it cover to cover, it will be Lizzie. 

Penelope releases the door and then starts to walk away when-- 

“Can I ask you something?”

The simple question compounded by the raw vulnerability in Lizzie’s voice, causing Penelope to freeze in her tracks. She slowly turns around and once again locks eyes with the blonde siphoner as a smirk slides across her face. “You’re about to ask me about Mikaelson, aren’t you?”

“What?” Lizzie replies as her eyes instantly double in size from the sheer shock. 

“Mikaelson. You want to know if the two of you end up getting together?”

“I… It’s not… I just…” Lizzie fumbles through her words as her cheeks flush with a noticeable reddish hue.

And Penelope can’t help but let a laugh slip out. “Breathe, Blondie. It’s okay. Mikaelson literally asked me the same exact question just a few hours ago.”

Lizzie starts to fidget with the journal, flipping it back and forth from hand and hand. “She did?”

“Oh yeah. Furball totally did.”

“Furball?”

“Long story but yeah it’s my nickname for Hope… It’ll make much more sense when you get a little beyond the halfway point in that thing.” Penelope punctuates her comment by motioning towards the journal. “Right after our stint in Berlin.” 

“Right… Berlin,” Lizzie responds, still sounding utterly lost. 

“Listen, I’m going to tell you the same thing that I told Mikaelson when she asked. If you had had the chance in my timeline then you guys would’ve been together in a heartbeat. But you both waited too long… So don’t make that same mistake. If you want to be with her, then be with her,” Penelope says. She tries to push forward a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes and Lizzie picks up on it. 

“Thanks, Satan.” 

“For what?”

“Honesty. Surprisingly enough, it’s a good look on you.”

“Well, as I told your sister, I’m all about turning over a new leaf these days,” Penelope responds. “I’m serious. Make sure she reads that. As soon as possible, okay?”

Lizzie nods, wrapping her hands a little bit tighter around the journal. “Okay.” 

With that, Penelope turns around again and takes off down the hallway unsure of where to go next. 

There’s nothing left for her to do but to wait.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! 
> 
> If you read any of my other fics, then you already know that I've been a bit heads-down lately with some non-fan fic writing projects. Hoping, though, to get cracking on the next chapter asap so look out for another update soon.
> 
> As always, comment away down below. Love hearing your thoughts and feedback.
> 
> Enjoy!


	14. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is that…” 
> 
> “Yeah… Shit! It’s too soon. Triad isn’t supposed to be here for at least another few hours,” Penelope responds. She runs her hands through her messy raven locks as her mind begins to race. 
> 
> She ought to be prepared, but...
> 
> But there is no preparation. Not for what’s about to transpire.  
> \---------------------------------------------------------------------  
> Penelope and Hopy kick it into high gear as Triad makes an earlier than expected appearance.

_“And I had a fear of forgiveness_

_(Said it from the beginning)_

_I was too proud to say I was wrong_

_(Said you'd always see me through)_

_All that time is gone, no more fearing control_

_I'm ready for the both of us now_

 

_But just know that I want you back_

_Just know that I want you back_

_Just know that I want you_

_I'll take the fall and the fault in us_

_I'll give you all the love I never gave before I left you”_

_\-- Want You Back, HAIM_

**__________**

“Wow.” 

Penelope’s eyes pop open at the sound of Hope’s voice. She sits up and cranes her neck backward just in time to spot Hope climbing through the attic window. 

“Wow?” Penelope asks. She stretches her arms and then cracks her neck from side to side. Falling asleep on the roof hadn’t been her original game plan. No. Far from it. 

But after aimlessly wandering the halls of the school for an hour or so, Penelope had somehow wound up in the one place where she knew she could find a little bit of peace and solitude. And once there, she found that she merely lacked the energy to go anywhere else. So Penelope gave up her fight against the ever-mounting exhaustion of the last few days, curled up with a leftover blanket and closed her eyes.

“Wow,” Hope echoes back and takes a seat next to Penelope.

“So I’m taking it that ‘wow’ is in response to you having read the copy of the journal I left for you?”

Hope nods. “Twice. Cover to cover.”

“Impressive.”

“Had some help with a Celeritas charm, but yeah… I read it twice.”

“And?” Penelope asks with a quirk of her brow.

“And… Wow.”

“You said that already,” Penelope responds.

“I know.” Hope exhales a long breath of air allowing a brief silence to fall between them. “I just… I just don’t know where to start.”

“Fair enough. It’s kinda a lot to process.”

“Kinda?”

Penelope can’t help but let a hint of a smile slip through at these words. “Okay. It’s a shit ton to process. Better?”

“Yes,” Hope replies, matching Penelope’s smile with one of her own. “Did we really take on a pack of rabid werewolves in the middle of the Louvre?”

“Technically it was in the courtyard of the Louvre, but yup... We did. Got a wicked scar behind my left from that one.”

“And Milan?”

“100% true too. It took a good three months for my left eyebrow to grow back but it all happened. Every last fiery moment of it.”

“Caroline’s really a badass, huh?”

“Badass doesn’t even begin to describe it. She’s the reason we survived Milan… and about a million and one other attacks too,” Penelope replies with an underlying bittersweet tone to her voice. 

“Do you miss her?” 

Penelope laughs as if the answer should be obvious. “More than I thought I would. But, weirdly enough, I have this gut feeling that I’ll see her again soon. Like either, I’ll just wind up on her doorstep again one day or she’ll just up and hunt me down. If that makes sense.”

Hope nods with a silent understanding. They sit side by sit for a moment or two, just existing in each other’s presence and the —

“Would it be strange if I said that I’m kinda jealous of my other self?”

“Jealous?” Penelope asks not fully following the Tribrid’s train of thought.

“Maybe jealous isn’t the right word.” Hope exhales and runs her hair over her ponytail. “More like envious? I don’t know… Reading about all those insane things we did, I couldn’t help but wish that I had gotten to experience them firsthand, you know?” 

“Who says they still can’t happen?”

Hope straightens up a bit at these words. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if the journal doesn’t work and history ends up repeating itself then my ass is going to be on the first flight I can grab to Belgium. And, as you already read, I can’t do it alone, so…”

“Are you asking me to go to Belgium with you, Penelope Park?” Hope asks.

Penelope instantly feels her cheeks redden and she shakes her head, in an attempt to downplay the significance of the moment. “No… I just meant… If things don’t…” 

Hope gives Penelope a playful nudge. “Count me in.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Of course,” Hope replies. “Whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me, Park. So if you’re going to Belgium, then I am too… Especially if it means I get to wield a crossbow.”

“Deal.”

“Good.” Hope lets out a light laugh and leans her shoulder into Penelope’s. It’s a small gesture, but one that Penelope can’t help but find comforting nonetheless. It’s as if by reading the journal, Hope has somehow become yet even more infused with Penelope’s Hope than ever before. Almost to the point where distinguishing between the two is practically impossible.

“So you gave a copy of the journal to Josie, right?” Hope asks, breaking the silence once again.

“Yup. Hand-delivered it to Lizzie roughly three hours ago.” Penelope replies with a yawn.

“Wait…” Hope whips her head around and locks eyes with Penelope. A noticeable look of sheer horror washes over her face. “You gave the journal to Lizzie?!”

Penelope nods. “Yeah. I went to their dorm room and she’s the one that answered the door, so I--”

“Fuck,” Hope says, cutting Penelope off. She runs her hands over her auburn ponytail, trying her best to keep her ever-rising anxiety at bay. “What if she reads it?”

“So?”

“So? Do you know what’s in there?”

Penelope doesn’t mean to, but she lets out a laugh. “I would hope I know what’s in there. I mean I did live it… Besides, it’s not like Lizzie wasn’t going to find out one way or another.”

“Finding out second-hand tidbits from Josie and reading it word for word are two very different things, Park” Hope fires back. “Oh god, Madrid… Madrid is in there! How am I going to explain Madrid?”

“Breathe, Mikaelson,” Penelope responds with an underlying reassurance to her voice. “Josie’s going to read about Madrid as well, so you’re not the only one that’s going to have some major explaining to do.”

“Right…”

Another momentary silence falls between the two of them as they watch the first rays of the morning sun peek out from the horizon, then—

“So how long do you think it’ll take before Lizzie and Josie hunt you down?” 

Penelope shrugs. “Depends…” 

“Depends on what?”

“Depends on if they cheated like you did and used a Celeritas charm or not,” Penelope replies with a bit of a smirk.

“For the record, I didn’t cheat.” 

“Whatever you say, Furball.”

“I didn’t.” Hope crosses her arms in mild annoyance. “It was 800 pages. It would’ve taken me at least half a day to read it without any help.”

“Only half a day?” Penelope questions and Hope answers with a harder than usual knock to her shoulder.

“Hey! For the record, I--” Hope trails off as something in the distance catches her attention. She slowly rises to her feet as her face transforms into a look of pure and utter concern. 

“Hope?” Penelope asks. Her eyes follow Hope’s and instantly spots tiny black specks moving along the treeline at the edge of the forest.

“Is that…” 

“Yeah… Shit! It’s too soon. Triad isn’t supposed to be here for at least another few hours,” Penelope responds. She runs her hands through her messy raven locks as her mind begins to race. 

She ought to be prepared, but...

But there is no preparation. Not for what’s about to transpire.

“What do we do?” Hope asks, pulling her eyes away from the rapidly approaching tactical swat team and locking them in on Penelope. 

Penelope bites down on her bottom lips for a moment or two and then--

“C’mon… I’ve got an idea.”

**__________**

“Where are we going again?” Hope asks as she races to keep up the pace with Penelope. The two zig-zag their way through the chaotic sea of confused and panicked students, trying to get down the main staircase without taking anyone out in the process.

In the short matter of time from when they first spotted of Triad to them reaching the main entranceway, the whole school seemingly has been made aware of the incoming attack. 

It’s as if by magic… Or some divine intervention… Or maybe a hybrid of both. Penelope doesn’t have the time nor the energy to decipher who exactly alerted the whole school but is beyond thankful nonetheless. 

“To the basement. Long story, but there’s an anti-magic relic down there that needs to be destroyed and fast. If Triad reaches it first, then they will activate it and we’ll be powerless,” Penelope responds.

“Wait? Why is it down there in the first place?”

“I’ll give you one guess… He’s your pseudo sensei.” 

“Alric?”

“Bingo,” Penelope replies with a huff. 

“Why would he…”

“No time for explanations now.” Penelope and Hope reach the first-floor landing and start to round the corner. “I promise, I’ll--”

“Hope Andrea Mikaelson!”

Lizzie’s voice slices through the steady sounds of the ongoing movement causing both Penelope and Hope to freeze dead in their tracks. They slowly turn around just in time to spot the blonde-haired siphoner marching towards them.

“Shit,” Penelope says under her breath. “Liz, this is the best time to--”

“Not now, Satan,” Lizzie cuts Penelope off as she closes the rest of the distance between herself and the two of them. She stops just inches in front of Hope, locking eyes with the Tribrid, and then, without any warning whatsoever, grabs hold of Hope’s cheeks and plants a kiss that is nothing short of life-changing upon her lips. 

Hope’s eyes widen with pure, unexpected shock. She tenses for a split second, unsure of how to react, before giving in to her instincts. Hope threads her hands through Lizzie’s platinum blonde hair, deepening their kiss as she does. This is a moment both Hope and Lizzie have been waiting for since the first time they laid eyes on one another.

And Penelope can’t help but smirk in satisfaction as she watches her best friend fall even harder than ever before in love with Lizzie Saltzman. It’s a moment she’s been secretly waiting to see play out ever since traveling back in time. 

Finally, Hope pulls back out of the kiss and smiles. “That was--.”

“Amazing,” Lizzie finishes Hope’s sentence with an exhale of air. Her face lights up as well, unable to take her eyes off of Hope.

“Yeah… That,” Hope responds still not fully recovered from the sheer shock of the kiss. 

“Ahem.” Penelope clears her throat subtly reminding them of her presence. “As much as I love seeing you two finally come to your senses and all, we’ve got more pressing matters to attend to.” 

“Satan’s right,” Lizzie chimes in causing yet another wave of shock to wash over Hope. “Josie went to go see if she could go track down that relic you mentioned in the journal in our dad’s office while I tracked you two down. We were going to set-up a protection barrier so those gun-toting freaks couldn’t bust in but we couldn’t siphon anything off of the walls.”

“Shit. That means Triad got to the relic,” Penelope replies with a huff of frustration.

“You read the whole journal?” Hope asks Lizzie, eyes growing even wider than ever before.

“Yes. Three times,” Lizzie responds without missing a beat. “And we’ll discuss Madrid later… And the nipple piercings.” 

And Hope just nods, still unable to find her words. 

“What relic?” Lizzie asks, turning her attention back towards Penelope.

“It’s some anti-magic relic that your dad has stashed in the basement. It’s been activated. That’s why you can’t siphon. We need to go destroy it asap in order to get our powers back.” 

“I know a back way into the basement so we can slip in without being detected.”  

“Good.” Penelope pauses for a moment and runs her hands through her raven locks, trying to dispel her growing sense of dread. 

Josie is already in Alric’s office. 

Alone. 

Unprotected.

It’s too close… Way too close for Penelope’s liking.

All it will take is for the wrong member of Triad to show up and--

“I’ll take Hope and we’ll handle the relic. You should go help Josie,” Lizzie says, almost reading Penelope’s thoughts. 

“But--”

“Go, Penelope.” And suddenly there’s a flash of an oddly reassuring look deep within Lizzie’s icy blue eyes. As if to say that on some level or another she gets it. 

“Okay,” Penelope says with a nod. 

“We’ll meet you there when we’re done.” Lizzie takes hold of Hope’s hand and then starts to drag the still dazed Tribrid back through the crowd of fleeing students. She gets all of three steps, though, before stopping once again to look back at Penelope. “Oh, and Park… If you let my sister get shot again, I’ll kill you myself.” 

“Got it.”

Lizzie gives Penelope a smile and then without another moment wasted, disappears into the sea of chaos with Hope trailing right behind her.

**__________**

Penelope makes it to Alric’s office in record time. She isn’t sure exactly how she manages to do it, but she’s there nonetheless in less than three minutes flat. 

There isn’t a Triad in sight and yet… 

Penelope wraps her hand around the door handle and takes a deep, sobering breath as her ears pick up on the unusual stillness of her surroundings. 

It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

There aren’t even the muffled sounds of movement coming from the other side of the door.

Why is it so quiet?

Fear begins to bubble up in the back of Penelope’s throat and she fights the urge to scream out Josie’s name.

Is she too late? 

Has Triad already been here?

Penelope scans the hallway once again for signs-- any signs-- that the black fatigue clad operatives are nearby. But there’s nothing.

Nothing but the stillness.

Penelope takes a moment to swallow down the dry lump of long-repressed emotions and then with all the courage she can muster, she pushes open the office door. 

“Jo--” 

But before Penelope can finish uttering Josie’s name, she feels an object collide with the back of her skull, followed by a sharp pang of blinding pain, and then--

Blackness.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a bit longer than planned to get out but unfortunately, a few other pressing deadlines had to take priority. 
> 
> The next chapter is going to be WAY more Poise centric. Promise. 
> 
> Feel free to holler away down below. Would love to know your thoughts... Especially on the Hizzie moment :) 
> 
> Enjoy!


	15. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We don’t have what you’re looking for.” Penelope tightens her grip on Josie as her eyes dart between the gun and Burr’s obsidian eyes. 
> 
> “And what would that be?” Burr responds. He takes a step into the room, causing Penelope to automatically inch backward.
> 
> Penelope goes to open her mouth but before she can get the words out--
> 
> “The relic,” Josie says. She steps out from behind Penelope, to face Burr dead on. She takes hold of Penelope’s hand and gives it a firm squeeze. “You’re here for the relic.”   
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> The final showdown

**Chapter 14:**

_ “That thing you're puttin’ on me _

_ Has got me so confused _

_ Won't somebody help me, tell me what should I do _

_ In my heart it feels so good, is it just a curse _

_ Will it get better, or will it get worse _

_ Is it love, or just a curse _

_ Do you feel good when I hurt _

_ I need your heart to open up _

_ If this love's not real, then it's just my luck” _

_ \-- Is It Love, Pink _

**__________**

“Pen?! Pen?! Oh, God! Please wake up… Please…” Josie's voice cuts through the darkness like a warm beacon of hope, pulling Penelope back into the land of consciousness. Penelope blinks and instantly winces from the white-hot pain radiating out from the back of her head. 

“Jojo?” Penelope says as the familiar surroundings of Alaric’s office once again come into view. “Did you hit me?” 

Josie lets out a wet bark of a laugh and nods through her tears. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were one of those guys.”  

“Triad?” 

Josie nods again. She wipes her eyes on the sleeve of her sweatshirt and then forces herself to smile. 

“And here I was worried you didn’t have a way to defend yourself.” Penelope sits up as she tries to shake off the last remaining remnants of the spontaneous head injury. “Are you okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 

Penelope shrugs. “Eh… I’ve lived through worse.”

“You really have, haven’t you?” Josie responds with a softness to her voice that all but instantly breaks Penelope. She ever-so-carefully reaches forward and brushes her fingers against the tender flesh of Penelope’s neck, tracing an invisible pathway that Penelope knows by heart. 

“Jojo,” Penelope says fighting with every ounce of strenght she has left within her to keep her composure. “I’m so--”

“Don’t,” Josie cuts Penelope off. Her fingers stop and she blinks back a fresh set of tears. “Please don’t apologize. Not ever again.”

“But, I--”

Before Penelope can get another word out, Josie’s lips are upon her own pouring out an endless wealth of mixed emotions. Grief… Fear… Sorrow… Love… Passion… Desire… Each one spreads across Penelope’s soul, patching back up the hardened cracks one by one. 

And for a moment, everything ceases to exist except for Penelope and the girl she would always call her home. Just the two of them. Together again. Bodies and souls interlocking once more like two long lost puzzle pieces.

But it’s only for a moment. 

A long slow clap penetrates the room like a gunshot, instantly grabbing hold of both Penelope’s and Josie’s full attention. 

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

Penelope’s head whips towards the doorway to find a hulking man clad in head to toe black tactical gear staring back at them. He claps steadily, with one hand holding tight onto a 9 millimeter, locked and loaded as if it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

“Please… Don’t stop on my behalf,” the man says, each word dripping with a thick, condescending tone. “Go on. Act as if I’m not here at all.”

Penelope slowly rises to the feet, never once taking her eyes off of the man. She places her hand on Josie’s arm and nudges her to step behind. “Who are you?” 

“Oh, I think you know who I am, Penelope Park.” A sick and twisted smirk spreads across the man’s lips. “But I’ll play along for the hell of it. My name is Burr and I work--”

“For Triad,” Penelope responds, finishing Burr’s sentence.

“Ah, you do know, don’t you?” 

“We don’t have what you’re looking for.” Penelope tightens her grip on Josie as her eyes dart between the gun and Burr’s obsidian eyes. 

“And what would that be?” Burr responds. He takes a step into the room, causing Penelope to automatically inch backward.

Penelope goes to open her mouth but before she can get the words out--

“The relic,” Josie says. She steps out from behind Penelope, to face Burr dead on. She takes hold of Penelope’s hand and gives it a firm squeeze. “You’re here for the relic.” 

Burr’s sick smile widens at the full sight of Josie. “Good guess, Ms. Saltzman. And you would’ve been right, except for someone-- someone who ironically enough just so happens to be in this very room right now-- altered our time.”

“How the hell do you know…” Penelope trails off too confused to even finish her own thought. 

“That you used a  Cultellus Intempestus? Or that you aren’t from this exact timeline?” Burr asks. “Both are valid questions.”

Penelope swallows the dry lump of sudden panic bubbling up in the back of her throat. She can’t pull her eyes off of the gun.

How does he know?

And more importantly… 

What comes next?

Penelope’s mind runs rampant, cycling through the thousands upon thousands of possibilities. Each one is more terrifying than the last. 

If it’s not about the relic and Malivore, then why are they even here to begin with?

Penelope’s eyes dart faster. Ping-ponging from the gun to Burr to Josie and then back to the gun. 

What is she missing?  

“So if you’re not here for the relic, then what do you want?” Penelope asks finally breaking the silence in the room. 

“Simple,” Burr responds without a moment’s hesitation. “I want you.”

“What?” Penelope blurts out in disbelief. She feels Josie instinctively move closer as a wave of palatable fear radiates off of the brunette. “Me? You want me? But why?”

Burr lets out a mocking laugh and cocks his head in surprise. “Really? You can’t figure it out? I practically spelled it out for you, but if that’s the case, then alright… Let’s do this. We want you, Penelope Park, for one reason and one reason only. Knowledge. You-- more specifically that brain of yours-- has a wealth of future knowledge that is, in short, invaluable in a multitude of ways. Ways that you nor I can’t even begin to fathom just yet. But, if used correctly, it could ensure the future safety of thousands of human beings. If not, the entire world.”

“You make it sound like I’m freakin’ Sarah Connor or something.” 

Burr shrugs. “In some ways you are.”

“Fine. If you want knowledge, then you can have it. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” Penelope replies with a strong exhale of air. She’s trying to keep her poker face intact but it’s getting harder with each and every second that passes. 

Burr sucks his teeth and in that instance, Penelope knows that it isn’t going to be as simple as her participating in a lengthy debriefing session or two. “Yeah… That’s not going to work. I meant what I said… Triad wants you.”

“No,” Josie says with forcefulness to her voice that Penelope has heard only once before from the girl. Now it’s Josie’s turn to take a slight step in front, blocking Penelope from Burr with her full body. “You can’t have her.”

“Oh, but I can.” Burr fires back. He waves his gun as a cold, harsh reminder, causing both Josie and Penelope to tense up with the mere thought of what resides within its chambers. “See either Penelope here is going to come with me peacefully without any funny business from you or anyone else for that matter… or else I’m going to ensure that history repeats itself.” 

And Penelope knows without a doubt that he means every single last word. Burr will pull that trigger. He’s done it before. So, he will do it again in a heartbeat if provoked. 

There’s no other option… At least none in the given moment. Especially not without the use of magic. 

It’s either freely go with Burr and Triad or…

Or nothing.

The alternative is simply not an option. 

Not for Penelope.

Penelope starts to move out from behind Josie once again. “Josie, I--”

“No.” Josie shoves Penelope back, shielding her even more than before from Burr’s grasp. “Not an option.”

“But--”

“No!” 

“Time’s a tickin’ ladies,” Burr says with an audible click of his gun. “You’ve got to the count of five.” 

“Josie…” Penelope says, locking eyes with the brown-haired siphoner.

“1… 2…”

“No! Don’t you even dare think about it. I’m not letting you go with him. I’m not--” Josie fires back.

“3… 4…”

“Jojo, please,” Penelope cuts Josie off as she fights with all of her might to get out from behind the girl. “Just let me—“

“5.”

CRASH.

BANG.

What happens next is nothing short of a blur of chaotic commotion. Just as Burr pulls the trigger, the office door explodes open in a hailstorm of wooden splinters, instantaneously knocking everyone off of their feet. 

Penelope hits the floor with a sobering thud, knocking the air straight out of her lungs on impact. She lets out a long groan, then rolls to her side and coughs, trying her best to shake off the blast.

“Penelope?” 

“Jojo?” Penelope mumbles in reply, voice thick with confusion. She glances over towards the doorway, expecting to see the brown-haired siphoner but instead spots Lizzie and Hope. They stand there side by side, hands joined and slightly out of breath. 

And in an instance, Penelope knows that their powers are back. There’s no mistaking it. Lizzie and Hope share a look of slight surprise mixed with the post-spell rush of adrenaline.

Hope and Lizzie both race into the office, wordlessly dividing and conquering. Lizzie makes a beeline straight for Burr’s unconscious body and without a moment’s hesitation, siphons some magic off of the floor and performs a binding spell, encasing Burr in a dense blue aura. 

Hope moves towards Penelope and scrambles to clear away the excess debris. “Pen?! You okay?”

“Yeah,” Penelope pushes herself up and takes a good look around at the wreckage of the office. “What the hell was that?” 

“A Crepitus charm,” Lizzie responds. She scoops up Burr’s gun and safely tucks it away in the waistband of her jeans. “Still working out a kink or two with it.”

“Kink? You call causing exploding a half-ton oak wood door into thousands of pieces a kink?” Hope asks, shooting Lizzie a look of pure disbelief.

“Yes… Yes, I do. The alternative could’ve been me causing the whole room to explode.” Lizzie joins in on clearing the debris. “Now where’s my sister?”

“She was just here,” Penelope says. Hope helps her up to her feet and the three begin to comb the piles of debris for any signs whatsoever of Josie. 

“There! Under the desk!” Hope shouts not even a second later and before Lizzie or her has time to react, Penelope is already there. She carefully flips back over the upended desk to reveal Josie’s battered body strewn amongst the wreckage like a discarded rag doll. 

“No… No…” Penelope utters as a wave of impending doom crashes down upon her. She immediately drops down, clearing out the stray pieces of splintered wood and starts to check Josie’s vitals.

“Oh, God…” Hope says, frozen in place at the sight of Josie.

“Is she…” Lizzie follows up, eyes also glued upon her sister’s seemingly lifeless body.

“No. There’s a pulse and she’s breathing, but…” Penelope trails off as her eyes wander downwards towards Josie’s chest and is hit dead on with yet another tidal wave of pure, undiluted dread. There, in the center of Josie’s chest is a small but distinct bullet hole. “No! Shit! No! He shot her… Fuck! He shot her!”

The brutal honesty of Penelope words manage to instantly unfreeze both Lizzie and Hope. They rush over to join the raven-hair girl, as all eyes lock in on the tiny charred hole. 

“Why isn’t there blood?” Hope asks, glancing over at Penelope in bewilderment. 

“I… I dunno…” Penelope shakes her head as her mind races for an answer-- any answer-- to Hope’s question. 

There should be blood. 

But there isn’t any…

How can that be?

Lizzie grabs hold of the bottom of Josie’s sweatshirt and carefully lifts it up to reveal…  

A bulletproof vest.

“What the…” Penelope utters, staring at the vest, not fully believing her eyes. Her fingers trace over the indention in the center of the material where the fragments of the bullet are lodged, jagged yet somewhat smooth to the touch.

“I read the journal,” Josie says in nothing more than a whisper as her eyes flicker open and a small smile slides across her lips. 

And Penelope can’t help but let out a sob of relief. She smiles back at Josie as tears start to form in her eyes. “You did?”

Josie nods with a wince. “Every last word.”

“You did,” Penelope repeats her words letting their meaningfully sink in. She leans in and plants a loving peck of a kiss upon Josie’s lips unable to express her utter sense of thankfulness in any other way. 

“Well thank fucking god,” Lizzie says with a shake of her head. “But where the hell did you get a bulletproof vest from?” 

“Dad,” Josie responds. 

“Alaric has a bulletproof vest?” Hope asks almost more to herself than to anyone else in the room.

Josie nods. “He keeps in the back of his weapons closet, behind the crossbows. I’ve seen it a few times before so that’s why I came here first. Figured I should grab it just in case something were to happen.”

“Smart move,” Hope replies with a weighted exhale of air. 

“I know, but at the moment, it doesn’t exactly feel like it...” Josie attempts to sit up but only manages to move a few inches before collapsing back down in visible pain. “Even with this thing on, getting shot still hurts like hell.” 

“No shit,” Lizzie says.

“Here,” Penelope hooks her arm under Josie’s body, allowing the brunette to lean her weight against her, and carefully helps her up to her feet.

Josie takes a moment to catch her breath and then glances over at Burr. “What should we do with him?”

“The binding spell should hold up for now unless magic goes back down again. We can put a Sigillum charm on the office as well as a safety measure since there isn’t a door to lock anymore,” Hope shoots Lizzie a look at these words and Lizzie just rolls her eyes in response. “And then Lizzie and I can go track down Alaric… You two should head to my room. It’s the most secure place, given its location. Plus, it’s the last place anyone will think to look for either one of you.”

Penelope nods and readjusts her grip on Josie before starting to lead them towards the doorway. “Sounds good to me.”

“Please be safe,” Josie says to Lizzie as she reaches out and gives Lizzie’s hand a light squeeze. 

“Me? I should be saying that to you,” Lizzie scoffs but returns the squeeze nonetheless in a shared moment of sisterly reassurance.

“Don’t worry, Liz,” Penelope pipes up, catching hold of Lizzie’s eyes for a moment. “I’ve got her.”

“I know you do,” Lizzie responds with an all-knowing smile. 

And with that, Penelope and Josie take off out of the office and back into the melee unfolding throughout the hallways of the school. They zigzag through the chaos, ducking and weaving as they go, with Penelope never once loosening her death-lock grip on Josie. 

Shots ring out and random hexes fire back all at once, from all sides hitting anything and everything in their way. It’s nothing short of a supernatural war zone on steroids with no clear signifier as to who really has the real upper hand. 

“Pen,” Josie says in between labored breaths as she struggles to keep up. “I… I can’t--”

“Yes, you can,” Penelope cuts her off and once again readjusts her arms in order to take on even more of Josie’s weight. “You’ve got this, Jojo. Just need to get past the library, down the stairs and over to--” 

BOOM.

Stunned, Penelope and Josie freeze in their tracks. A mangled mess of hulking Triad members fly through the air only ten feet in front of them and crash into the nearby wall with a bone-crushing thud. 

“What the--” 

“Go!” Lizzie screams out from behind them and Penelope glances back to spot the blonde-haired siphoner standing there, back to back with Hope, firing off spells with an expert-like precision.  

“Is that…” Josie asks in slight disbelief as they pick back up the pace and continue on down the hallway. 

“Oh yeah,” Penelope responds. “Safe to say Salvatore has a new power couple.” 

“Seriously.”

**__________**

“Sera,” Penelope says under her breath and with a quick flick of her fingers, a cool green film expands across the dorm room door forming an impenetrable seal. “There. No one’s getting in here unless they have the password.”

“And what’s that?” Josie asks as she finishes peels off the bulletproof vest from her body and then slides her sweatshirt back on. 

Penelope plops herself down on Hope’s bed next to the brown-haired siphoner and smirks. “Furball.”

“Furball,” Josie repeats matching Penelope’s smirk with a warm smile of her own. “God, that’s such a great nickname.”

“Right? And you’ve got no idea just how fitting it really is… Especially--” 

“After the eyes?” Josie asks, finishing Penelope’s sentence.

Penelope lets out a bit of a laugh and nods. “Yeah… The eyes. I forgot I wrote about that.” 

“You wrote about a lot.” 

“I did.” 

“And went through a lot too.” 

“Six years worth.” Penelope sighs as a wave of sheer exhaustion washes over her. She curls her body up into the space next to Josie, being extra cautious not to inflict any more damage as she does. 

And Josie, in turn, nuzzles herself even closer and wraps Penelope up into a comforting embrace. 

“There’s so much I want to ask you,” Josie says with a yawn. “But before we get into it, can we please just take a nap together first?”

Penelope nods, barely able to keep her own eyes open. “Of course.” 

“Good,” Josie replies. She leans down and plants a tender kiss on the top of Penelope’s head. 

“I love you.” Those three simple yet powerful words tumble out of Penelope’s lips with a newfound conviction that up until this very moment had felt almost unattainable. 

Somehow, regardless of the countless missteps and mistakes along the way, everything has fallen into place and for the first time in what seems like forever, Penelope is able to breathe easy knowing that Josie-- her Josie-- is safe within her arms.

“I love you too, Penelope Park.” Josie replies and Penelope swears she can feel that all too familiar smile sliding across Josie’s face with her words. “I love you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it... Well, with the exception of an epilogue that is in the works now.
> 
> I'm planning on publishing some one-shot excerpts from the journal that Penelope wrote in the near future which will go into more detail on the backstory of those six years including what went down in Madrid and the Penelope / Liz bar encounter.
> 
> As always, holler at me below with your thoughts and comments. Love reading all of your feedback :)
> 
> Enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been playing around with story for a while now in my head and finally decided to take a crack at it. Enjoy and let me know what you think!


End file.
